This Is Not What I Do
by LePipi
Summary: Castiel is happily unhappy with his life, working at a bar in Kansas. Until a vampire makes an appearance. True Blood universe
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The small television in the bar crackles with news of a recent series of murders. Apparently, vampire induced murders. The news presenter's voice, filled with fake grief, booms across the room, and he speaks about the "abominations" roaming our country, in need of being stopped. Castiel sighs, cleaning the whiskey cup in his hands. To be frank, he doesn't have much of an opinion about the vampires; he just really doesn't care. He hasn't witnessed any vampires, not that there are any in Kansas. Evidently, his nonchalant behavior isn't shared by the rest of the bar patrons, and he doesn't need to hear the sneers and disgust spilling from their mouths to know their opinion on the whole vampire she-bang. He feels pure anger, disgust, and defiance radiating around the room. He tries, he truly does, to shut them out completely, but their feelings are too strong. He likes his job in the bar; he serves and sometimes cleans, depending on what Sam wants him to do, but sometimes it's not worth trying to be normal. His brows are knitted together in concentration as he tries to focus on his shield.

"Hey there; you grip that cup any harder, it'll split open in your hands, boy," comes Sam's voice, snapping him out of his daze. Castiel glances down at his own hands, knuckles white from gripping the cup.

"Oh, sorry Sam; just lost sight of myself there for a minute," he tries, smiling weakly. Sam smiles at him sympathetically and pats him on the back.

"S'alright Cas, just watch yourself," he says and leaves for the back room. He likes Sam; he is a good boss and holds this place together.

"Six beers over to the big guy's table and two cups a whiskey," Jo proclaims as she skips over to another table. Jo is Sam's friend. She's blonde, tall, and hot - a good addition to the bar and good for business, Castiel thinks, although he's not interested. He picks up six tall glasses for beer and starts pouring, one after another. He fills up the whiskey shots and trudges over to the table of rowdy blue collar workers. He puts down glass after glass and overhears their drunken chatter.

"All m' sayin' is there's no stoppin' the fuckin' bloodsuckers while we're all democratic n' shit."

"Better their blood spilt then my daughters."

"Ah say we do things our way 'n stake 'em!"

Castiel closes his eyes and turns away, trying to ignore their ignorant, hateful talk. 'Fucking hicks,' he thinks.

He can't help but let anger surge within him, as though it's being fed by their anger. Why do they even care? There aren't any freaking vampires for miles and miles. And then, just like that, the door opens with a creak, and he's proven wrong.

Who would wander in here at this time of night? It is too late for the early crowd and too early for the late-nighters. Castiel glances at the man standing in front of the door, and watches as he shuts it behind himself. As the man turns towards the bar, it's suddenly as if the room is robbed of any air. Everyone gapes, including Castiel himself.

Tall, broad, and pale. Blond, short-cropped hair; freckles framing his face. Full lips and eyes as green as spring. A vampire. He swaggers towards a table, scanning the room as he moves. Even the hicks fall silent upon his arrival. A vampire. In Kansas. At the bar he works in.

Jo shuffles over to him, her gaze locked on the vampire's table. "Hey, um, Cas, could you take this one from me? The vampire, I mean?" She keeps her voice down to a whisper, in case the vampire can hear her. She looks at Castiel with pleading eyes, begging for his help.

"Yes, don't worry about it," he answers in his most reassuring tone.

She relaxes with a sigh and gives him a smile of gratitude. "I owe ya one Cas." She smiles and turns to leave, but just as he is picking himself up to take the order, she grabs his arm. "And please be careful; you know what these monsters can be like."

He starts to answer back but stops when he feels genuine concern coming from her. She truly fears for his well-being. "Yeah, sure," he answers, quickly gathering himself and going to take the man's order. As he walks closer, the vampire scans him up and down. It isn't until Cas arrives in front of him that their eyes met. Green as spring all right.

"May I take your order sir?" Castiel surprises himself with the natural calmness of his voice because his mind is fidgeting all over the place.

The vampire grins brilliantly at him, baring his white teeth. No fangs. Huh.

"How about a bottle of them True Blood things?" he says, voice a deep, calming tone.

"Just a moment sir," Castiel replies, calm as ever, before retreating to the bar. He is fairly certain there isn't any True Blood lying around. This is Kansas, after all, and this place is dead. No pun intended. But it is customary to check, and after browsing in the storage room, his suspicions are confirmed. As he strides back to the bar, he realizes that he is about to tell a vampire that there isn't anything for him here. Who knows how the man will take the news. As an invitation to leave? As a threat to get the fuck out? But Castiel is a reasonable man, and he will make sure the customer feels welcomed. Even though the customer is a vampire.

The group of hicks keeps whispering amongst themselves, while glancing his way. Maybe feeling unwanted will save this vampire's life. And why should Castiel feel as if it's his job to make sure this vampire leaves safely? Like his brother Gabriel always says, 'because you're a righteous bastard with a God complex'. The vampire watches Castiel arrive; he looks intense and rarely blinks. Castiel feels somewhat comforted by the fact that he's not the only one with the staring problem.

"I'm awfully sorry, but there isn't any True Blood in storage right now. Although I will make sure we are equipped by the end of the week," Castiel tries, his voice unwavering.

The vampire merely smiles. "You're not afraid of me," he responds, amazement glimmering in his eyes.

"Is there reason to be?" Castiel catches himself saying before he has time to think it through. Though no, he is not scared. He is fairly uncomfortable, but not scared.

The man's smile only broadens at Castiel's retort, and he speaks with the relaxed ease of a vampire. "There might be. I mean, you just told me there isn't any of that synthetic bullshit for me to feed on. I might just have to take your neck for that. I might just slaughter this whole bar in my crazed hunger."

"But is there?" Castiel replies. He catches himself feeling bolder than usual. This vampire just threatened him, and the whole bar, and he remains undisturbed.

The vampires eyes fill with wonder, his smile returning to just a stretch of his lips, holding no threat.

"No. There isn't." The vampire's tone gives away his surprise, his voice down to a whisper. "What's your name, boy?" The snark in his tone is just as surprising.

"Castiel, and I am thirty years of age." He should be scared; he should be careful; oh God, he knows he should be, but something about this particular vampire makes him feel particularly courageous.

The vampire laughs, a deep rumble of joy that startles Castiel, and stands up from his seat. He's towering over Castiel and takes a step into his personal space, a small grin playing on his lips. Castiel remains unmoving, standing his ground.

The vampire leans into him, his nose brushing Castiel's ear. "You'll always be a boy compared to me, Cas," he speaks, voice heavy and hushed, making Castiel shiver. The vampire steps back, his jacket thrown over his shoulder, and he gives Cas a long, assessing look. And with that, he turns to leave.

Castiel watches him go and notices a peculiar swagger to his walk - like he was a cowboy at some time. Maybe he was. As the door closes, Castiel suddenly becomes aware of something. Every person in the bar is staring at him. He quickly walks back to the bar, dazed and out of his mind, and numbly grabs a glass and starts cleaning it with a rag. Jo is as quick on her feet as she is with her mouth, and she skips quickly over and starts questioning him, amazement clear in her eyes and in the tone of her voice. Jo is like an open book. Not just to him, but to everyone who knows her. He doesn't need to read too deep into her emotions to know just what is she feeling. She rambles and rambles on about this or that, and he mindlessly answers her questions, not even paying attention to what she is saying. All he thinks about now is a vampire - a vampire with green eyes and freckles. Isn't there a saying about freckles being kisses from the sun? Just imagine what would happen if he met the sun now. He won't be getting kisses; that's for sure. And just like that, he suddenly remembers something.

"Hey Jo, I think I forgot something, could you just cover me for a moment?" Castiel, always the polite one, asks.

Jo eyes him suspiciously, before answering. "Yeah sure, go right ahead."

"Thanks," he nods gratefully and makes a run for the back door. In his daze, he doesn't even consider that he won't be able to find the vampire, and as he walks out in the brisk autumn wind, he feels the consequences of his hasty decision to walk out wearing only his white shirt, with his sleeves pulled up, and his thin, black pants. His loosely-hung tie wavers in the wind, and he hugs himself and continues his walk to the parking lot, the cold weather clearing his mind. 'What were you thinking Castiel? That you'll just walk out and he'll be waiting for you? Sometimes I question why I put up with myself...'

Castiel's thoughts come to an abrupt stop when he senses a strong feeling of joy from somewhere around the woods. But, it isn't the happy kind of joy; it is the reveling-in-someone's-pain kind. It's a disturbing feeling, and one Castiel has never felt. He quickly jogs to the woods, dodging tree after tree, as the burst of feelings gets closer. 'What if the vampire is feeding? He won't be so nice once you've caught him in the act, Castiel,' he thinks. But his intuition is strong, and he quickly spots the source of feelings. In a small clearing in the woods, two men are huddled over a figure, while six others stand around them, sneering and laughing in pleasure. He recognizes them - the hicks from the bar. The figure that lays splayed on the ground is thrashing up and down, bucking his legs wildly. The two men standing over him are laughing loudly, reveling in his pain. Their collective emotions are too much for Castiel, and he winces as he is forced to feel their pleasure. He moves from behind the trees and immediately recognizes the figure. It's the vampire. He is splayed helplessly on the ground, with silver chains covering his naked chest, arms, wrists, neck, and legs, and his mouth is stuffed with a rag. Castiel's heart clenches at the sight. He should have been careful; he should have known those idiots would try to pull something; he should have kept his eyes open. He should have come sooner.

'Get a grip Castiel.' He mentally scolds himself for getting lost in his emotions in the middle of a situation, something which he rarely does. 'Find your center. Now.' He feels for the gun he always carries in the back of his pants (his job and place of residence required that he always be prepared for trouble), and thanks God that it has bullets.

With a deep breath, Castiel steps into the clearing and clears his throat, making all eight men turn towards him. Their cackling abruptly ends when they see him with a gun. Castiel doesn't let himself glance at the vampire, because he knows that if he does, he will lose all concentration.

"Leave. Now. "

The men all glare at Castiel, eyeing his gun as well. One of the two men who stands above the vampire - the scrawny-looking one with a mullet and a stake in his hand - slowly steps towards him.

"Now, now, you gonna shoot some of yer fellow town folk over some bloodsuckin' monster?" the man slurrs, the heavy accent oozing through his words like slime.

"If there are any monsters here, then it's you people," Castiel snarls through gritted teeth.

The hick only smiles, showing a row of rotten, yellowed teeth, and the other men laugh grimly, as they start towards Castiel.

"Ah think we got ourselves a fang banger here, men," the scrawny one sneers, and they all laugh, grabbing their bats and poles. Castiel feels afraid, but only for a second. He knows how to deal with situations like this. He quickly moves forward, dodging two swings, but then someone grabs his hand. With a stab of his elbow to the man's ribs, he quickly releases himself. The men huff in frustration, their anger at Castiel beginning to boil over. Just as he is making his way to the vampire, who now thrashes even more violently then before, a swing to the leg brings him down. As he falls to the ground, he howls in pain, causing laughter from the other men.

The scrawny one smiles down at him as the others slowly approach. Castiel feels for his gun, but it is a foot away. "Ya should have used that toy while ya had the chance, boy."

The men all grin at him, raising their bats, one after another, and Castiel closes his eyes. 'So this is how it ends, huh? Dying to save a vampire's life. Life? But they're dead. A vampire's second life? After life?' The gibberish of his thoughts is cut off by a sudden cry of anger. Castiel opens his eyes to catch only glimpses of a figure moving from person to person, leaving only shredded halves of what were once whole humans. He quickly glances towards where the vampire lay, only to find his previous spot on the ground abandoned and surrounded by long chains of silver. Castiel turns his head and sees the vampire crouching above him. The man's eyes shine even in the dark, and the blood on his chin glistens even brighter.

Despite the pain he is in, Castiel smiles and manages a faint "Hey..."

The vampire looks like he is fighting back the urge to laugh. "Hey," he replies, allowing himself to smile.

Just as Castiel is about to smile back, his face turns into a grimace of pain. He fights the urge to scream and keeps it at a low growl. The vampire eyes Castiel's leg and looks him sharply in the eyes, like he is thinking something over.

Finally, Castiel can't bear that stare any longer. "What is it?" he asks, voice full of gravel.

The vampire doesn't respond but instead bares his fangs with a loud growl and bites into his wrist. Castiel gasps loudly, shaking slightly at the sight above him, and pulls himself up on his elbows, so he is at eye level with the vampire.

"W-What are you doing?" he asks, panic filling his voice. He's never heard of vampires biting themselves.

Finally, the vampire removes his mouth from his wrist, blood dripping slowly down his chin, and he looks at Castiel. His eyes are glazed over and his mouth agape as he thrusts his wrist at Castiel. "Drink," he orders, his voice a sickly deep timber.

Castiel is afraid. Does he want to turn him into a vampire? Is this really happening? Or maybe the pain is making him hallucinate?

"You are not turning me into a vampire," he replies, gritting his teeth in determination.

The vampire growls in frustration, a low threatening noise, his lips bared over his teeth, showing his blood-slicken fangs.

"I am not turning you into a vampire. Drinking my blood will heal you. It won't do harm. Now drink before I change my mind." He speaks low, and it sends shivers up Castiel's spine.

Castiel looks in his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. Any sign of lying. He tries reading the vampire's emotions, but he can't find any. None at all. Castiel is alone in his feelings of distress, and his mouth hangs open, showing his indecisiveness.

"I can't...," Castiel begins, but he is cut off by the vampire's determined tone.

"You came for me and were hurt in the process. Yes, you can!" the vampire growls with force, his teeth clanking against each other - barely keeping his tone under control. Castiel looks in the vampire's eyes and then back to his bleeding wrist, as the blood drips steadily on the.

'Fuck it.' And with that thought, Castiel grips the vampire's hand and starts sucking on his wrist. The vampire groans loudly, and then Castiel loses the ability to hear. All he can concentrate on is the sticky sweetness of the vampire's blood. It tastes like everything sweet he's ever loved but with the burning sensation of alcohol, and Castiel can't stop. He doesn't feel the blood dripping from his mouth, or from his chin, or from his hands, which have a death grip on the vampire's arm. He doesn't catch himself mewling and moaning against the other man's wrist. It feels too good to be real. Suddenly, Castiel is brought back to reality with a fling of an arm, and he finds himself splayed on the ground, away from the vampire and not knowing how he got there. The vampire looks at him with amusement and chuckles. Castiel quickly straightens but is not really able to lift himself up yet. He looks himself over and sees that his white shirt is soaked with blood.

"Wha-What happened?" he asks frantically, touching himself to see if he is whole again. The vampire stands up, still smiling, teeth showing, though with fewer fangs.

"You just lost yourself for a minute there. You're fine now. Here..." he offers his hand to Castiel, who eyes it suspiciously but nevertheless takes it in his own. He is going to need support if he's going to try to stand up now, with a broken leg - and woah! – it's not broken after all. He looks himself over, stretching his leg to see if it's any good, and it's fine. No, it's better than fine. It's all good. He feels good all over. He turns his eyes towards the vampire, intending to speak, but he gets lost in those eyes, which he can truly see now. They are so beautiful. So vivid. They aren't simply green. There are dashes of gold, of brown, of silver, of blue, of forest green, of neon green, of about every color you could find. There are little specks of stars in them, and Castiel feels every bit of it. All this, from just his eyes. He turns to look at the vampire's lips, taking in the perfect bow shape, the plump upper lip, the pink and red colors glazing over them. It's as if Castiel can taste them. Those lips suddenly pull into smile that's all teeth, and oh, how perfectly aligned those teeth are and…

Once again Castiel's daze is interrupted when he hears, "I should probably take you home now." And, his voice. It's like sleeping in fine linen; like brushing over soft leather. It's like the clanking of chains, and like being too close for comfort at the fire, but still too cold to leave its caress.

"What is happening to me?" Castiel asks, reaching slowly down beneath his thigh, to the ground below.

The vampire smiles guilty and rubs a hand behind his neck. His gaze doesn't waver.

"Ya know when I said that vampire blood won't harm you?" he asks.

Castiel nods.

"Well, it won't, but it has... side effects," he finishes meekly.

Castiel gulps, feeling more stable now.

"Your blood is a drug?" he asks, unblinking.

The vampire shrugs uncomfortably. "Well, it's sort of a boost for all your senses. I mean, it has healing power, our blood. But it also makes you stronger, faster, and such... It'll wear off eventually; I mean, you already finished your high, so...you'll be okay, I swear, but maybe you should let me take you home and, ah, keep an eye on you...," he huffs out, half embarrassed. Do vampires feel embarrassed? Can they?

"Eventually?" Castiel repeats.

"Yeah uh, in a day or two you'll be back to your normal self. It's just because you got yourself a whole lotta vampire blood in your system now. You needed the extra to heal," he deadpans.

They stand there silently, watching each other in the dark, the chirps of night life echoing around them. Again Castiel remembers something. "When I left the bar, I went looking for you," he says, voice quiet.

The vampire raises his eyebrows at that. "Yeah?" he asks.

"You didn't tell me your name," Castiel finishes quietly.

The vampire stills. Castiel watches as the other man becomes stoic, and he is suddenly fearful. Maybe this is something you don't ask a vampire. Maybe it is inappropriate for a human to ask a vampire's name. Suddenly the booming noise of laughter fills the forest, and Castiel staggers back with surprise. It's weird how an undead creature's voice feels so much like sun and life. Once the vampire finishes laughing, he looks at Castiel with something like... adoration.

The vampire walks a few steps over to Castiel and offers his hand. "Dean. Dean Winchester."

Castiel takes Dean's hand and shakes it. It feels so cold, yet so strong.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," he replies, which earns him another laugh.

"So, how about taking you home?" Dean offers, letting go of Castiel's hand.

"Yes, that would be fine," Castiel accepts. "But first, let me get my coat from the bar."

"Yeah, sure," Dean replies, a smile still plastered across his face.

As they walk the short distance to the bar, Castiel asks, "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get out of those chains?"

"Let's just say a little dog helped me," Dean answers.

And when Castiel faces Dean with a skeptical look, Dean merely winks.


	2. Chapter 2

After the short drive to Castiel's house they swiftly made their way to the porch. The house was an Antebellum, two stories high, the paint chipping from its walls. Nevertheless Castiel loved it. He lived here with his grandmother until... Well.

Dean gazed upwards the house, smiling in approval. Dean was a fun presence to Castiel. He was so very new. Well, he was older than much, but still, he was new to Castiel. He twisted the keys in the lock and stepped inside, quickly hanging his trench coat. He spotted Dean switching his weight from one foot to another at the porch, his hands snugged in his jeans pockets. Castiel eyed him dumbly in quiet. Finally Dean caught his eyes, looking pissed.

-" You have to invite me in. I can't come in otherwise"- He spoke somewhat exasperated.

-"Oh. Ah, I invite you in, Dean Winchester, the vampire."- Castiel spoke insecurely. How was he supposed to know how these things work? Maybe a simple 'come in' wouldn't have worked?

Dean chuckled briefly before whipping his boots on the door mat, slowly making his way in. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, hanging it besides the trench coat. Castiel walked his way to the living room, Dean following behind.

-"You've got yourself a nice place here, Cas."- He spoke in awe.

-"Yes, uh, it was my grandma's."- Castiel replied quietly.

-"Where is she now?"- Dean asked, still scanning the room, his back turned to Castiel.

-"She's dead. I'm gonna grab a glass of water, if you don't mind."- He spoke in a rush, making his way to the kitchen quickly.

He made it to the sink, turning the tap on, before he felt e presence behind him. A careful hand landed on his shoulder.

-"I'm sorry. I sometimes forget to take a hint over mundane occasions. I didn't mean to cause you distress."- Dean spoke quietly.

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment letting his head raise upwards. 'What is this vampire doing? What am I doing? Help me, God, help me understand, help me make sense of this whole ordeal.'

He finally turned towards Dean, his hands resting behind himself on the sink, and looked straight into the vampire's eyes. Only then did he realize his proximity.

-"It's fine, just please take a seat."- Castiel suggested politely. The vampire eyed him again before nodding his head and taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs at the little round table. Castiel suppressed a shudder as the cold from the vampires hand left his shoulder. Castiel returned to the sink how turning the tap on while pouring himself a glass.

-"There wasn't anything mundane about her death."- Castiel spoke, his voice void of emotion. He finally turned his way towards the vampire, who now sat upward, his posture tense.

-"Vampire?"- He asked his voice steady, also void of all emotion.

Castiel took a sip of the water. He forgot how tiring fighting a bunch of hicks could be. Then again, he never knew before tonight, did he?

-"No. Not a vampire. A human. Someone from around here."- He almost whispered, although disgust was apparent in his voice.

Dean watched him steadily.

-"Do you have any idea who this human might be?"- He spoke, voice with a professional determination.

-"No. Everyone loved my grandma. She got invited to every towns party, she donated money to the church every month, she went to every charity giving, oh and she made the best pie..."- Castiel smiled a smile of deep sadness. He didn't really let himself dwell on his emotions, especially not these emotions. But he found it so easy with Dean. Dean didn't cloud him with his emotions, he wasn't forced to feel his, he didn't have to concentrate just to keep a straight head.

Dean slowly rose to his feet. Castiel didn't dare lift his head. He knew if he did the tears will just burst through.

He stood before Castiel, sliding a hand behind his chin. He brought it up easily, Castiel not having the will to fight him.

Once he caught Dean's eyes he saw only determination. There was no pity like he feared, like he usually felt aimed towards him. Another hand wiped at a single tear rolling down his cheek.

-"I will personally make sure to find and kill this person."- He spoke through his gritted teeth.

How could a simple man like Castiel, who works at a bar in Kansas, who can't tame his hair and always forgets to shave his stuble, cause such emotional bursts from a creature void of life.

Castiel immediately backed off, his mind coming back to his senses.

-"Don't be stupid Dean, the police have been searching for this person for months now, and still they have nothing. Not even a lead, not even a suspect."- He spoke making his way to the living room, Dean following behind. He plopped down on the old couch. Dean slid next to him, his whole body directed towards Castiel.

-" How'd you find me, Cas? In the forest, I mean."- Dean asked, obviously changing the subject, for which Castiel was grateful. Oh, but then, he's going to have to explain his little problem... Not a very good subject exchange.

He sighed and looked at the vampires eyes. He honestly couldn't even begin to understand him. He acted so... Right. Everything about him felt so easy for Castiel, which made it harder to understand. He was a vampire, he was supposed to make him feel scared, unsafe, uneasy, spooked, creeped out. Instead he made everything seem normal to him, natural even. Like he could speak his heart out and this man will find a way to understand him.

-"I, uh, I have a problem Dean."-

Dean furrowed his brows together, lips pursed in concentration.

-"Problem?"- He asked voice rumbling through.

Castiel opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was scared now. Who knows how would a vampire feel about this sort of thing. Maybe it was too supernatural even for them?

-" 'S okay, Cas."- The vampire spoke quietly, soothing Castiel's shoulder with his hand.

He finally snapped.

-"What is it with you?"- Castiel demanded, his eyes squinting in anger.

The vampire stiffened, gripping Castiel's arm unconsciously.

-"What do you mean?"- He asked cautiously.

-"I mean why are you so nice? You are a fucking vampire, for God's sake! You shouldn't show any emotion, you shouldn't have helped me out there, you shouldn't have given me your blood! You are supposed to be fucking terrifying!"-

He may have taken it too far.

The vampires grip on his arm only tightens, his eyes suddenly going wide, his pupils vanished. His mouth pulls back against his teeth, showing off his fangs, snarling. His brows double over, causing him to look like a wolf in attack stance. He was complete vampire now. No movies, or video games, or books, could prepare him for the sight before him. The vampire surged to Castiel with a flash of speed, causing him to topple down on the couch. Dean growled down at Castiel, causing spit to fall down on his face. Castiel trembled beneath him, breathing through his mouth. 'Wow, Castiel, that was a very smart remark you made, perhaps, file it as a good ice-breaker?'

-"Is this what you want?"- The vampire demanded, his voice an echo of a wolf's battle cry.

-"You want me to be a big, bad, scary vampire? You want me to shred you in pieces, and paint the walls with your blood? You want to end up like you're sweet grandma?"-

Castiel gasped loudly at the last remark, tears dwelling in his eyes. He squeezed them down with force.

-"Or maybe you want me to fuck you into your death, draining out your life, while fucking that ass?"- He growled, baring his fangs again, laughing loudly.

-"Yeah, yeah, you want me to be cruel, merciless, you want to see your God's unwanted child in me?"

The tears were streaming down Castiel's face now. No use holding them back now. He turned his head to the side, where he was pinned down by Dean's arm. But suddenly, the pressure from his strength was gone.

Castiel gasped for air, realizing he was holding his breath. He dared to open his eyes. He saw Dean, back straight, legs tucked under his thighs. He looked pretty normal, if a little unnerved.

-"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you."- He deadpanned.

He quickly got up catching his jacket from the hanger. Just before he left he turned on his heel, towards Castiel, who still lay on the couch breathing heavily.

-"Go wash up, your shirt's still soaking."- He said levelly.

-.-

He was drying himself off in his bedroom. Clean of dirt and blood and God knows what. He closed his eyes for a moment letting the sensation of the towels soft brush take over him. The second he opened them he was there. Dean Winchester stood before him in all his vampire glory. He stood a little hunched, his legs wide apart, his arms broad at his sides, his head a little bent. He looked like a panther waiting to pounce on his pray.

-"Hey."- Castiel murmured, a small smile playing on his lips.

The vampire only grinned at him.

In a flash of movement, the vampire was behind Castiel.

-"Lemme help you out."- Dean's voice cooed in his ear.

The vampire took the towel from Castiel's hand gently, and began brushing it slowly up and down his chest. Castiel closed his eyes once again, letting himself to indulge in the warmth of the towel and the contradicting cold body against his back. Dean smoothened the towel over his chest, his stomach, his neck. Castiel was losing it minute by minute. He let his head drop over Dean's shoulder, exposing his neck to him. He felt soft lips, trace over the skin of his neck. He opened his eyes with a gasp to gaze back into green, emerald ones. The towel slid from his stomach to his cock, gripping lightly. Castiel huffed a breath of surprise, smiling despite himself. He felt so suddenly brave. Like he had this whole thing in control. He maneuvered himself to face Dean, losing the grip on his cock. The vampire smiled at him, all warm and affectionate. His hands closed over Castiel's sides, soothing over his ribs. Castiel watched the vampire with half lidded eyes, catching the lust ridden glaze of his eyes, also. He slid his arms over the vampire's shoulders gripping and pinching at the strong muscles he found there. The vampire grinned, flashing his white row of teeth, pulling them even closer together. They examined their faces, trailing their eyes over each other in admiration. With a locked gaze they brushed their lips, both immediately closing their eyes. Castiel sighed into the kiss, feeling relief he didn't know he needed. The vampire growled, hastily claiming Castiel's mouth with his tongue, not missing a speck. Castiel groaned letting Dean take over him, lazily brushing his tongue against Dean's. All of a sudden, he pulled back holding Castiel's face with his hands.

-"Meow."- The vampire meowed at him.

Castiel's brows furrowed down, his eyes squinting in confusion.

-"Don't play with me, Dean."- He warned him. Moving in for another kiss, he found he couldn't move from the strength of those arms.

-"Meooow."- The meow echoed louder than before, stretching out its length.

The vampire lunged at him and started licking his face. Castiel closed his eyes, fighting against the vampires head.

-"Dean what are you doing? Why are you-" But as soon as he opened them he saw his cat, Mojo licking at his cheek and purring. He looked over at his clock, his alarm still beating generically. The blinds let the lazy morning sun pour into his room. Castiel sighed in frustration and started hitting his head repeatedly against the beds headboard. The cat eyed him in confusion and spoke in very disturbed meows.

-.-

He began seriously questioning if the day could get any worse. He went into the bar at 8 A.M. sharp, got himself doing all three shifts, managed to spill 6 beers and brake a glass, Sam wasn't there so he was practically left running the bar, and Jo and Ellen kept whispering between themselves while stealing glances his way. Not to mention he couldn't concentrate on anything sense his mind would always wonder back to his dream. Which meant that he couldn't concentrate on his shield either. He felt all of the bar patron's emotions. All of them. Even the repressed ones. He felt the man he just served, disgust's towards his wife's body, as she was munching away on fries. He felt the longing aimed towards Jessica, specifically her ass. The thing is, he doesn't mind that people feel a certain way, even if he doesn't agree with it. It's just that when he catches their feelings, it's as if he were feeling them. He felt like he wanted to pinch little Jessica's ass. And even though it's gone in a second it still feels very wrong. Like someone borrowed you're body, made you take a walk and brought you home, leaving your body again. It's not a painful experience but a tormenting one. It's the constant fear that someone will take you for a walk again, without you knowing and you won't be able to stop it. It's his paranoia that doesn't let him sleep at night, that helps him keep those bags under his eyes.

-"Hey Cas, could ya be a sweetheart and grab a couple of bottles a whiskey from the back? We're on the low here."- Ah, Ellen, always with the sweetheart.

-"I can."- He replied grimly and made his way to the back.

-"Thanks sweetie!"- Ellen shouted behind him.

Ellen was... Ellen was okay. She had a tough attitude and could always look out for herself and her kids, but she changed her men like he changed his socks. He wouldn't have cared much if it where Jessica, hence she was young and that is what young people do. They love and play. But Ellen was a mother of two and he liked her kids. They deserved a strong figure in their life. Not a friend of momma's that leaves after two days of free food and a warm bed. She was dating this guy, Luke now. Apparently he was a keeper. And Castiel liked him enough, he did seem to hang on the longest to Ellen and the kids. And he was fairly fun, polite, knew when to crack a joke or don't.

He opened the cooler in the storage room, grabbing three bottles of whiskey. As the cold burst of air brushed over him, he remembered, again, a certain vampire. Dammit... Why, why must he torture himself. He screwed up and that is all! He won't be seeing the vampire ever again and he didn't want to. Castiel did screw up, and he admits this, but there is no excuse for the sheer terror that vampire caused him. And no, he will stop his thoughts right there, and won't dwell any further on this! Just as he was making his out of the storage room he ran into Sam. He staggered back at the impact of Sam's big body, but his strong arms were quick to catch him.

-"Ah, I'm so sorry Cas, I swear I didn't see you. Are you okay?"- He spoke quickly, rambling his words. Sam was a sweetheart in Castiel's opinion. But on a second glance Sam wasn't looking so fresh. His shady hair looked messy and a little damp. His skin was glistening with what appeared to be sweat. His clothing was dirty with mud and smelled rather unappealing. Sam always made sure to look putt together in his bar. It wasn't a fancy place, but he always looked presentable.

-"I think the question is, are you feeling okay? You don't look so hot, Sam."- Castiel spoke worry apparent in his voice. He never faked his emotions. If he ever could get a grasp on them he showed them freely.

Sam smiled a bright, though a very tired smile.

-"I'm just fine. And thanks for asking. It's good to know someone actually cares."- Sam spoke tiredly, visibly troubled.

-"And how are you doing, really?"- Sam asked, as if he just remembered how important it was to ask this.

-"Really?"- Castiel asked, with a raised eye brow. He didn't want to worry Sam with his little troubles.

-"Yeah, really."- Sam affirmed, his face slowly softening up.

Castiel sighed before continuing.

-"Really, I... Haven't been having the most joyful time today."- He chuckled somberly. fiddling with the bottles in his hands. Sam really didn't need to know about his petty problems, when he clearly had some of his own.

-"Yeah uh, I'm sort of the one to blame for that. Sorry for just dropping everything on your shoulders. I swear it was urgent."- He spoke somewhat embarrassed running a hand through his mussed hair.

-"Yes, of course, I wouldn't doubt your decision."- Castiel quickly replied, not wanting Sam to feel responsible for his crappy day.

Sam's face lightened with a tender smile, making his deep, forest, green eyes twinkle in the low lighting of the short hallway. He put both hands over Castiel's cheeks and hunched down to look into his eyes.

–"You sure you're okay though?- He said, quietly, turning Castiel's face from side to side as if searching for bruises.

-"I'm perfectly fine, yes."- He replied somewhat confused by the sudden doctor's appointment.

-" Ya now, Cas, sometimes I wonder how I deserved to have you in my life."- Sam says, his eyes gleaming with assurance, his stance unwavering. He and Sam, get along pretty well. Although Ellen sometimes makes remarks on their professional to private relationship. And Jessica gives him a spiteful glare, sometimes, when she catches them chatting. But Sam is his boss. And even though he truly cares for him, as one of the few people here that Castiel actually likes, he couldn't be in a romantic relationship with him. Hence with a relationship all of his sexually oriented problems will come to surface, and he'd have to deal with another person's emotions on a constant, which would also be disturbing someone's private zone, and not to mention having to explain his little problem... Too much for an already troubled soul.

-"I should take these back to the bar."- Castiel deadpanned, lifting the bottles slightly, making them clunk against each other.

Sam glanced down catching the sight of the bottles.

-"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you should."- Sam reluctantly backs off letting Castiel brush past his gigantic form.

His last forty minutes left in the bar went by in a swift. He was too tired of feeling tired to partake in any more orders so he kept his place at the bar. And just as the last drunks went home Castiel was quick to get his coat and made his way to his car.

He made the drive to his house numbly, not paying much attention to himself or his surroundings. He didn't need to be careful, the drive home was a routine. He parked in front of his house, quickly making his way out, just about ready for a steamy bath and a night of eating his feelings, when the sight before him just about erased all his plans. At the steps to the porch sat the one, the only, vampire of Kansas (that Castiel knew of). Dean arose slowly, brushing his hands over his thighs. Castiel stood before his car not a feat away from Dean.

-"What do you want?"-Castiel spoke, his voice biting.

The vampire made an aborted hand movement, slapping his hand back to his thigh.

-"I came to apologize."- The vampire spoke humbly.

-"For what? For saying that I should be killed, like my grandma? Or for threatening to rape me?"- Castiel spitted angrily, all of his frustration coming off in a stream of hate. He came to stand before the vampire not caring if that would get him killed.

-"For both. And for losing control of myself."- Dean replied in a calm but determined manner.

-"I came to ask for forgiveness. But before I do, I will bring your words to attention. You practically called me a pussy, and managed to insult my race, implying that we are monsters. Even if you don't forgive me, I need you to understand that, you cannot say things like that to other vampires. If it were anyone else, they would have killed you spot on. I am not trying to excuse my actions, but there are some things that are just my nature. And I can fight them, but I can't erase them. So, will you forgive me?"- He spoke calmly but with a firm undertone.

Castiel eyed him, squinting in concentration. The vampire stood stoic, unblinkingly matching Castiel's glare.

-"I, I do forgive you, Dean."- Castiel finally spoke, though uncertainly.

-"But, we have things to talk about. Please, if you would like, to come inside."- He murmured, gazing at the ground.

-"Thank you. And yes, I would like to come."- Dean said strongly.

Castiel threw a small smile at Dean, and made his way inside. Dean followed him into the living room, positioning himself on the small armchair this time, instead of the wide couch. Castiel stood, looking aggravated.

-"I'm sorry, but I don't have anything to offer you. I don't usually get guests, not even human ones."- Castiel chuckled sadly, fiddling with the shirt's buttons.

-"It's completely fine. And you should probably serve yourself to dinner, you worked three shifts today."- The vampire smiled politely, letting his arms fall on his knees.

-"How'd you know that?"- Castiel felt perplexed. He hadn't said a word of his job to him.

The vampire looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

-"I uh, I sort of went to the bar a couple of times after dark. To, uh, check on you. But then I thought it might have been a bad place to, you know, talk. Or make an appearance."- He chuckled embarrassed, switching his gaze around the room.

-"That's creepy and unnecessary, Dean."- Castiel said dismissively. They had a lot of more to talk about then he thought. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a slice of pie he forgot he had left. Who cares if Dean feels uncomfortable? He's only human after all. He sat back on the couch, planting the plate on the small table, taking a bite of the apple pie. He caught the vampire eyeing the pie sadly. He swallowed, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

-"I'm sorry, maybe I can finish off in the kitchen?"- He offered, quietly.

The vampires snapped up in an instance, looking annoyed.

-"I am a vampire, Castiel. I have seen things, you humans, don't have the imagination to comprehend. I can handle the sight of pie, thank you."- He spoke with snark, making a hand gesture towards Castiel, at the word 'humans'.

-"Fine, fine, just don't get your panties in a twist."- Castiel talked back, deliberately provoking him.

The vampire glared at him, looking fairly pissed now.

-"You gonna follow through on your death threats, now?"- Castiel challenged him. So what, Dean served it.

The vampire scoffed in an appalled manner.

-"I explained why I said what I said, and I expressed my regret. Could we please, move on?"- He spoke slowly, as if talking to a child, putting an accent on certain words.

Castiel sighed, swallowing the last bit of pie, pushing the plate back on the table. He laid his back against the couch, keeping a watchful eye on the ground.

-"Actually, no. I need to express my regret on the matter."- He tried switching his gaze to Dean, who looked slightly surprised back at him.

-"What I said was uncalled for. A lot of things were wrong with my words, and I need to explain why I said what I did."- He tried, mumbling through his words. He found strength in his voice and continued.

-"You, you surprise me."- Castiel looked back at Dean, who rose his brows inquisitively. Castiel huffed a chuckle and continued, looking back at the ground.

-"I find more comfort in you then I ever did in people. And you are nice, and kind, and even seem caring. I, I don't know what to think of this. I have prayed to God every night to help me be normal, to find a normal woman, to have a normal family, to lead a normal life. To take my curse away. And he sends you to me. It's as if he's trying to make everything in my life harder. I don't know where to turn anymore. Praying was the only savior I knew off."- He finishes quietly, slumping his head between his hands, rubbing at his eyes.

-"You make me feel normal. And I'm not sure that's such a good thing."- He laughs sadly, his voice echoing through the silence of the room.

-"Why do you feel it is wrong to be yourself?"- The vampire's voice rumbles through.

-"Because I, I have this thing, Dean..."- He speaks heavily, not daring to open his eyes.

-"Which is?"- He can almost feel the empty hand gesture the vampire makes. He finally decides to open his eyes. His lifts his head from his knees and looks straight at Dean, who sits slumped forward in his chair, propped elbows on his knees.

-"I can feel other people's emotions."- He says dully.

-"In what way?"- The vampire asks, his voice leveled.

-"I catch them, and I feel them myself. If someone was angry, I'd catch their anger. If someone felt happy, joyful I'd feel it myself. It's a foreign feeling, Dean. It's not something I want to feel. I don't want to feel, just how much I'd like to fuck the waitress that works with me. It's torture, Dean. I can't decipher my feelings anymore. I try so hard to keep other people's feelings from me, that I have lost my own."- He sobs his last words.

-"If ya ask me, I'd say you have a gift."- The vampire speaks, voice sympathetic.

Castiel eyes him disbelieving, chasing away the few stray tears on his face.

-"Didn't you just hear a word I said?"- Castiel croaked in aggravation.

-"Yes, I did. All I'm sayin' is that you have the gift to sympathise. With exercise you can use this to yours and other peoples benefit."- The vampire spoke warmly.

He sat up then and made his way to Castiel, snuggling at his side, wrapping his arms around him. Castiel shivered at the unexpected touch.

-"And what's with this? With the nicknames, the 'coming up to check on me at the bar', the touching, and, and the talking?"- Castiel snapped once again, rushing through his words, looking pissed at Dean. The vampire only smiled, not letting go of Castiel's waist.

-"I, uh, I guess I too, feel slightly normal when I'm with you."- He chuckled snuggling against Castiel's shoulder, hiding his smile.

-"You're unlike any human I've ever met. You weren't afraid of me, that day at the bar. And you, you speak to me, like you would speak to a fellow human, a friend even. Like the fact that I'm a vampire doesn't change anything. And I appreciate the change in attitude I always encounter from humans. I feel like I'm an equal to you."- He said and raised his head, to face Castiel.

They sat there, in silence just staring in each other eyes, a comfortable sort of tension hanging around them.

-"You're eyes are the most heavenly shade of blue I have ever seen."- Dean crooned, his breath chilling in his face. Castiel's breath hitched at the remark, bringing their face's even closer, brushing his nose against Dean's. Dean smiled slightly, tilting his head to brush his lips against Castiel's. Castiel shivered, his eyes fluttering shut. He opened his mouth slightly, letting Dean peck at his lower lip. He pecked back at Dean's upper lip. Dean fully grasped Castiel's lower lip with his lips. They kept pecking and teasing until Dean flicked his tongue at the inside of Castiel's upper lip. Castiel gasped which earned him a chuckle from Dean. He kept sliding his hands up and down over Castiel's ribs, much like he did in the dream. Although the real thing was much, much better. Dean slid his tongue carefully inside Castiel's mouth, who opened up to him gladly. They played and danced with each other's tongue, relishing in each other. Castiel wondered how could such a cold being make him feel hot all over? He caught himself moaning unconsciously. Embarrassed he tried to pull back, which only made Dean push him back on the couch. Castiel gasped , which made Dean become ferocious in the kiss. He slid over Castiel's body bringing his hips down over his crotch, creating beautiful friction. Soon, Castiel realised he was sporting a major hard on. This was where things needed to end. He pushed against Dean's chest, turning his head away. Dean got the hint and pulled back slightly annoyed. He hovered over him, supporting his weight on his hands, placed on either side of Castiel's head.

-"What?"- The vampire said, visibly irritated.

-"I'm hard."- Castiel said dumbly, not really catching his words before they spilled out of his mouth. The vampire grinned widely, seemingly amused.

-"That's a good thing."- He said through a chuckle.

-"No,uh, it's not. Not with me."- Castiel mumbled, pushing himself up, his head averted from Dean's. He sat up right, his legs crossed, fumbling with his shirt's sleeve. Dean also maneuvered himself in a sitting position, his legs crossed, slightly touching Castiel's.

-"Well, it looks like a good thing to me."- He grinned toothly, rubbing a hand over Castiel's leg. Castiel gave him a private smile, but the sadness didn't leave his eyes.

-"Seriously though, talk to me."- Dean took Castiel's hands in his own and began soothing the knuckles with his thumbs. Castiel looked at their hands with heavy eyes.

-"I'm too much trouble, Dean. It might be easier if you just, forgot about me..."- Castiel whispered in the tinniest of voice. This isn't what he wants, he doesn't, but his grandmother always said, 'if you truly care for someone you will make the right decision, even if it breaks your heart'. He's been strong for too long to let himself be weak now.

-"Castiel, look at me."- The vampire commanded. Castiel slowly lifted his head up meet Dean.

-"There isn't enough trouble that could keep me away from you. Speak to me, please."- Dean spoke softly. Castiel sighed in defeat. Why was this vampire making him feel so weak? Why did he let himself be weak in front of him?

-"When I was little, I lived with my father and mother. I don't quite remember them. I do, however, remember my brother. Gabriel, he's a nice guy..."- Castiel fumbled with his words, while Dean listened intensely, leaving him space to continue when he's prepared.

-"And, uh, my grandfather, he visited us often. He, he liked me best. Sometimes he'd, he'd touch me, and tell me things...He kept it at that but, it, it left a mark on me. A psychological one. I tried telling my parents about it but, uh, they didn't believe me. See, they knew about my little problem, and they just thought I was crazy so... I'm sorry, Dean, I can't- I just can't."- He choked on his last words, letting them drown down. All of a sudden, the vampire's head snuggled under his armpit, making him fall down on the couch. He breathed heavily, growling silently, his back raising up and down at his harsh breaths.

-"Dean? Dean, what's wro-" – But the vampire didn't let him finish.

-"Hold me."- He said, his voice muffled from Castiel's arm.

Castiel cautiously gripped the vampires back with one hand, and curled another over his hair, brushing it lightly. The vampire growled approvingly. Castiel kept soothing him, feeling strangely as if he were petting his cat. Or maybe a lion. Or a panther. The vampire even purred slightly. In his confusion he almost forgot about the talk.

-"You okay?"- Castiel asked whispering in the vampire's ear.

-"No. I'm feeling murderous rage. Just keep stroking."- He said in a hurry. Castiel eyed him dumbly before continuing his petting. They just lay there, against each other, while Castiel stroked his vampire. Soon his breathing calmed down, and he looked up from Castiels side, into his eyes.

-"I wish I could have done something. Anything to have helped. I wish everything were right. I know it's too late now but..."- Dean spoke, hurt evident in his voice.

Castiel smiled softly at him, and caressed his cheek, with the hand that scratched at his hair.

-"It's enough that you care. And that's all that I need. It's in the past now, it isn't important."- Castiel whispered to him.

-"Yeah but, I-I feel so helpless. I feel weak. I want to do something, anything to make it better."-Dean spoke like he was experiencing great pain. He reached with his hand to Castiel's face, soothing back at his cheek. -"Well, you can help me get over my intimacy problem..."- Castiel said shyly, blushing slightly. Dean straightened up at this, and curled his legs against Castiel's side.

-"Yeah?"- The vampire prompted eagerly.

-"If you can be patient with me, we, we can work to... making love."- Castiel whispered, his face now beet red.

The vampire smiled, and started tracing lines over Castiel's arms with his fingers.

-"I'm a vampire, Cas. Everything I've got is patience. It'll be fun even, working for it for once. And besides, we wouldn't be havin' sex. We'd be making love."- Dean smiled so brightly and genuinely Castiel almost forgot about his shyness.

-" I, I know you probably have a lot of things to do but-"

-"No, I don't."- Dean was quick to interrupt him. Castiel couldn't keep his smile hidden.

-"But, I was wondering if you would like to, come and lay with me, in bed."- Castiel spoke unconfidently.

-"I would love that."- Dean said, standing up and offering a hand to Castiel. Castiel smiled brightly and took it in his own standing up in the process.

-"Lead the way, sir."- Dean said smirking. Castiel took him upstairs in his bedroom, and turned unsurely back at Dean.

-"I don't know how you would like to do this..."- He said sadly, as if in a great dilemma.

-"Just like I used to."- The vampire said, and started taking his t-shirt off. Castiel stood watching, as the golden, pale chest unraveled before him. Dean unbuckled his big belt and slid out of his jeans, exposing long, bulky legs. They had a particular position, wide spread, with the knees buckled inward. 'Yep, definitely a cowboy.'

Castiel didn't catch Dean watching him with a big shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

-"As far as I remember, humans don't go to bed in a shirt and tie."- He chuckled quietly.

Castiel quickly reassembled himself back, and started taking of his tie in a hurry, his gaze unwavering from the site before him. The vampire chuckled again, sweetly and stepped towards him.

-"Here, let me."- He said huskily. Castiel dropped his hands from his tie and watched Dean in the eyes, as he stared at him, grinning while working his way through the tie. Finally untying the knot, he grasped the loose thread of tie in a firm grasp and pulled him towards, yanking sharply at the material, making Castiel stumble in Dean's face. He gasped at the sudden movement, as Dean, who towered above him, eyed his lips, whilst licking his own. Finally he directed his gaze to Castiel's eyes and looked pleadingly.

-"Can I at least kiss you? This one time?"- He looked like a lost puppy, his eyes shining in a silent plead. It was Castiel's turn to chuckle.

-"Yes you can."- And with that, he smacked his lips against Dean's. They kissed passionately a while, before Dean's hands found their way to Castiel's ass. Castiel pulled back immediately, looking at Dean with a scowl.

-"Hey, this whole thing was about braking boundaries, weren't it?"- He said with a squeeze of his ass. Castiel scoffed, and extracted himself from Dean's grasp, turning his back to him while unbuttoning his shirt.

-"With time, yes it was."- He scolded him sending him a look from his shoulder.

Dean looked over Castiel, biting his lip in a wanton manner.

-"You're hot, you know that?"- He said unfazed by Castiel's words.

-"You're insufferable, you know that?"- Castiel said exasperated, putting an accent on the 'that'.

He shrugged himself out of his shirt, and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down swiftly.

-"I try."- The vampire replied. Once they were both in their boxers, they just stood and scanned each other in silence.

-"You're pretty hot yourself."- Castiel teased, smiling slightly.

The vampire laughed brightly, his eyes squinting in joy.

-"Get in there."- He directed him to the bed.

Castiel laid himself under the covers and watched as Dean pulled himself in, next to him. He looked like a kid trying his first swim in the kiddy pool. Castiel twisted his body towards Dean looking at him over the sheets.

-"You comfortable?"- He asked worried. What if it was uncomfortable in more than one way, for vampires to sleep in a bed. Or at least lay in one.

-"Yeah, 'm just fine."- The vampire spoke huskily seemingly content.

Castiel smiled back, and turned on his side turning off the light, leaving the room in total darkness. Before he could turn back to Dean, a hand draped itself over his stomach while another hung over his head, playing with the stray hairs over there. Castiel nuzzled back into the body behind him, the coolness a welcomed feeling in the warm summer night.

-"Hey, Dean?"- Castiel remembered something.

-"Yeah, Cas?"- His breath tickled his neck.

-"I had a dream last night. About you, and me..."- Castiel trailed off, hoping the vampire would get a hint.

Fortunately, he did, if the huffed laughter behind him was something to go by.

-"That's one of the side effects of the blood. Though, I hope it was a good dream."- He spoke amused.

-"Yeah, it was."- Castiel replied, smiling himself.

-"Goodnight, Dean."- He huffed sleepily, realizing just now how tired he really was.

-"G'night, Cas."- The voice behind him whispered in contentment.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning came over Castiel like a cold shower.

He lazily draped himself across the bed, brushing his arms over the bed's covers. He was on the edge of wakefulness, his mind fogged with the pleasantries of sleep. He fluttered his eyelids slightly open, smiling lightly at the memories from last night. His thoughts directed at Dean, Cas slumped to his side, wondering why Dean strayed so far away from him on the bed. He awakened and turned immediately, his eyes wide with surprise.

There was no one next to him. Even though the summer's sun was glimmering through, he felt a very strange kind of coolness. It wasn't cold from the body that lay next to him yesterday, the body that made him feel secure and cherished. It was a kind of empty cold, like the kind you meet in the depth of a cave. A cold filled with promises of horror and fear. He shivered as he grasped the sheets where Dean laid. The feathery silk left him feeling grim.

In that instance, he realised that he will never be able to wake up next to Dean. Dean will never truly fall asleep next to him. He will miss out on the simplest joy, because of nature's law. There will be no good morning kisses, no lazing around together in bed on the weekends. He won't be able to serve Dean breakfast in bed. And most importantly, he will never see Dean's eyes glimmer with the sun shining through them. Castiel started shaking with tears, grasping the sheets in both hands and sobbing violently. He lay in his bed, jerking through his muffled cries. His body tensed and quivered under the covers; he was having a nervous breakdown - one of the worst so far. All he wanted was to shift in bed, so he could see Dean grinning as he watched him and tried to wake him up. But no, everything in his life had to be hard, had to be difficult. The reality of the situation hit him like a bat swing to the head.

Cas will never be able to bake for him; he'll never make pie for him; he won't even get to lay with him, in his backyard, on the grass, just basking in the sunlight. Ever.

He gushed through his tears, trembling.

/

Castiel guided himself through the door and into the bar. He always arrived at 8 AM sharp, even though they opened at 9 AM. They set up the whole bar in that extra hour. As he entered, he was greeted by an unorthodox sight. Jo, Ellen and Sam were huddled together, looking highly distressed. The loud thud the door made upon being closed turned their attention towards Castiel, and Sam's look of heavy sadness immediately softened upon seeing him.

"Hey, Cas. How you doing this mornin'?" Sam tried.

"I'm fine, but what's going on here?" He asked suspiciously.

"C'mere, Cas." Sam smiled weakly, and motioned to Castiel with his hand.

Castiel walked cautiously towards Sam, feeling sure that something was way off. He came to a halt beside Sam, who wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders. Castiel looked upwards, towards Sam's face, with a questioning look, but he only saw the distant gaze in Sam's eyes. Jo and Ellen looked worriedly between themselves.

Sam cleared his throat before he continued.

"I was just telling the girls about an unfortunate event that happened last night." He paused looking briefly into Castiel's eyes, whose gaze hadn't wavered from him.

"Jessica was murdered, last night. Strangled in her apartment." The silence following afterwards floated heavily around the bar, a lot like smog. Castiel gulped loudly, the sound echoing around the room. It was the same killer. The same that strangled his grandmother.

"The police found out just yesterday, so no clues yet." Sam cut the silence, his words somber.

"She was a good gal, Jessica," Jo said, trying to offer something to the conversation. Though she did feel grief, it was mellow, with amazement clouding her emotions more.

Castiel quickly gathered himself back under his shield. "Yes, she was." Castiel affirmed quietly, slumping his head down, Sam's hand around his shoulder heavier than usual.

"Time for work girls, me and Cas'll pick the bottles from storage; make sure the chairs are set," Sam ordered dismissively, pulling Castiel along with him through the little hall, towards the storage room. He stopped just in front of the steel door, and turned to look at Castiel.

"Ya know we'll get this sonuvabitch, right, Cas?" Sam spoke assuredly. Though Castiel felt Sam was trying harder to assure himself.

"This isn't about me, Sam." Castiel snapped at him.

Sam looked taken aback, and quickly pulled himself upright, leaving Castiel's personal space undeterred.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll just go and get some paperwork finished, 'kay?" Sam hurried out, making his way to his little office.

Castiel continued into the storage room, grabbed the bottles they needed, as he did every morning, and staggered back to the bar.

This morning couldn't get any worse.

/

Apparently his day could.

He kept his place at the bar, not able to mingle and be polite right now. He was mixing a drink, cussing away at anything he deemed to be cuss-worthy at the moment. Not out loud. Though, if something slipped past his lips, he wasn't to blame. Then he overheard the strangest thing.

"Well if ya ask me, she had it comin'," Ellen spoke, passing judgment too easily.

"What'd you mean?" Jo asked, trying to hide her glee. She was no saint, and like most people here, she enjoyed gossip. When you live in a small town like this, and you, yourself are small-minded, then it was one of the things you'd come to look forward to.

"I mean, that girl went around. And I'm not talkin' just the regulars. I'm talkin' vampires, "Ellen said, like she just revealed a great truth, a great secret. And Jo looked every bit enlightened.

"Oh, oh, you mean the bite marks? Oh, I saw them, she was crawlin' with them," Jo said, sounding like she was speaking with the knowledge of the universe. When people spoke of other peoples' private business, Castiel had noticed, they always spoke as if they understood so very well the how and why this person was going on about their business. He sensed their feeling of pride and empowerment.

"You bet she was, and I once saw, while she was pulling up them stockings in the ladies room, several marks on her thighs," Ellen said, to which Jo gasped, surprised.

Ellen nodded solemnly and said, "That's what you get for messin' with their kind."

And that just about drained all of Castiel's patience.

He slammed the glass of alcohol on the table with a loud bang and turned his furious eyes towards them, interrupting their little chat. They looked puzzled, as if he was having some kind of episode. They'd discuss it with him later, when he finished.

"Are you two insane? Do you not understand how serious the death of another person is? Do you not care that this person has family and friends that now mourn her? Can you not show a little respect towards her by keeping your goddamn mouths shut!" He was shouting, and every eye in the bar was on him. Ellen and Jo looked horrified, and he really didn't care.

He stomped over to the back door and sat down on the stairs, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself down.

Who knows what they said about him, when he wasn't there.

The door behind him creaked open, revealing a seemingly very worried Sam.

"Hey... Can I, sit here?" Sam asked him, like he was afraid of scaring off Castiel.

"It's okay, please..." Castiel spoke, a little lost.

Sam quietly seated himself next to Castiel. He seemed so big even when sitting. They sat in quiet for a while, for which Castiel was grateful.

"Are you alright?" Sam broke the silence.

"Yeah..." Castiel replied somberly.

"You know Ellen and Jo... They don't mean harm; it's just the way they were brought up..."

"That's no excuse."

Sam slung his head down and remained quiet.

/

His shift ended at 4 PM, so he was driving himself back home. Finally, a break from people. To be honest, he couldn't wait to see Dean. Dean wasn't people. He was dysfunctional, but better.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he saw another car parked in front of his porch. It was a shiny black Volvo, something you don't see here every day. He cautiously pulled over and made his way inside. The door was opened wide, so he kept his hand on his gun at the back of his pants. He heard some clatter from the kitchen, and he slowly crept towards the noise. The sight before him made him want to pull the trigger.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Gabe?" Castiel asked, exasperated.

"Nice to see you too, bro," Gabriel replied through a mouth full of pancakes.

"How did you even get here? And when did you make pancakes?" Castiel demanded, confused.

"Spare key grandma gave me. And I've been here for a while, so I was hungry," Gabriel defended himself.

Castiel sighed in an exasperated way and pulled a chair out from the kitchen table.

"Fill me a glass of water, Gabe." He was tired from work, from everything going on. He just wanted to laze around the rest of the day and enjoy his nightly visit from Dean. But now, with Gabriel here, he could forget that. He loved his brother. He really did. But his visits never meant good news. He moved away, to California of all places, so he only came back when he needed something. His last visit was sometime in mid-July, when he got kicked out of his apartment, so yeah.

"You don't seem so excited to see me, bro," Gabriel prompted, while handing Cas the glass.

"We both know you didn't just come here. So you might as well spill it," Castiel demanded. He wasn't in the mood for bullshit. Not really.

"Okay, okay. Actually you're right. I do have a reason to be here," Gabriel spoke, his voice suddenly turning grim. He quietly sat down opposite Castiel, fiddling with a glass of his own.

"Grandpa died, Cas," he said, his voice full of sorrow, and glanced back at Castiel.

Castiel looked fairly surprised, but not shocked, terrified, nor mournful.

"Oh, well, that's sad." Castiel's voice came out more calm than was expected. Maybe he should have faked tears, so maybe he could get Gabriel to leave him alone, but it was too late now.

"You don't really sound sad, Castiel." Gabriel spoke, sounding defensive.

"I am, though he was an old man, and it was his time," Castiel said calmly. The idea of faking his emotions right now might have been a logical one, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

"You sound like you don't even care," Gabriel probed again, this time with spite on his words.

"This is not about me, Gabriel," Castiel retorted with a silent demand to 'back off'.

"It is though. He left a whole lot of money to you. The least you can do is feel sorry for the guy, eh?" Gabriel all but shouted.

"I don't want his money. And you are in no position to judge me." Castiel fought to keep his calm. Gabriel didn't know what their grandpa did to him. And he didn't want him to know. Gabriel looked up to that man with awe, and Cas wasn't one to burst his bubble. Ignorance is bliss, yes?

"Judge you? Wow, you're pretty diplomatic considering you still live here with these rednecks! That man did a lot for us, Cas, and you don't even have enough respect towards your family to fake your grief!" Gabriel shouted, slamming his hands on the table.

"Get out. I will find you tomorrow," Castiel said calmly, choosing to be wise about this situation. His brother might display the antics of a child, but he knew better.

Gabriel stormed out of the room, and out of the house, without a single word or a look back.

/

Night was quickly becoming his favorite part of the day. And Dean was his favorite past time.

He toweled his hair dry after a glorious, hot shower. He needed it, really. With everything that happened today, he just hoped to relax, have a nice, quiet evening with Dean and just go to sleep, and maybe he could wake up to a better tomorrow.

He splayed out on the couch, nuzzling his cup of coffee. The television played some old war movie; he wasn't even sure what he was watching.

The doorbell rang, startling him out of his daze. He found himself smiling, as he went to open the door.

A seemingly very happy Dean stood before his door, hands deep in his jeans pockets.

"Good evening." He smiled broadly.

"Good evening. Would you care to come in?" Castiel chuckled slightly.

"I would, thank you." Dean replied, before brushing his feet on the mat and making a step inside. It was weird to see these types of manners coming so naturally to him. Castiel thrived on the feeling that someone else behaved as he did, and that he was not judged.

"I hope you don't mind…" Castiel snatched his cup of coffee as they sat down next to each other on the couch.

"Not at all, please," Dean replied, waving a hand dismissively.

They just sat for a while in comfortable silence, watching the movie, as Dean wrapped an arm over the couch, towards Castiel.

"This is not very truthful." Dean's voice rumbled next to him.

"How come?" Castiel asked, tilting his head from where he was nuzzled against Dean's shoulder, and looked at him.

"I personally wouldn't say that it was about courage, or keeping your family safe. It was about death. And that was all," Dean said void of emotion, still fixing his eyes on the television.

Castiel understood what was behind those words. Dean was implying that he fought in the civil war, and that meant a whole bunch of other things. Castiel was very intrigued by this new bit of information, though he knew to maintain his boundaries. If Dean wanted to talk about the war, he would. He needs time. And he has plenty of that.

"How old are you, Dean?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Old as balls," Dean huffed with a laugh. Castiel followed with a soft tsk and responded, "I have some wine that's been aged for over two hundred years. And, you know, men are like wine; they get better with age."

Dean laughed self-deprecatingly, and Castiel noticed the soft glimmer of sorrow in his eyes.

Cas chose that moment to kiss him. He trailed his lips over Dean's, trying to give him just a taste of the passion and the love he felt for him. He could almost feel Dean's surprise.

"They taste as good," Castiel retorted, smiling slightly.

Dean smiled brightly and bent down over Castiel, kissing him some more.

"You know, most people would be running away by now," Dean huffed against his lips, searching Cas' eyes, feeling a bit in awe.

"I'm not most people," Castiel answered before giving him a chaste kiss.

"So, how was your day?" Dean asked, happily playing with a few strands of stray hair on Castiel's head.

"Awful, really. First a fellow waitress was killed, then Ellen and Jo were being stupid, and then I came home to find my brother, Gabe, who tells me that my grandfather died."

"Well, that sucks. If you would like to talk about it, I would gladly listen." Dean sounded insecure, as if testing the words on his tongue, and Castiel smiled into his white shirt.

"I would actually."

He told Dean mostly everything, leaving out some bits from the conversation Ellen and Jo had. He didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable or anything of the sort. He finished with the story of his grandpa's death.

"But you are glad he is dead, right?"

Castiel was a bit startled by Dean's question. Dean always chose to be careful with Cas, and when he wasn't, it was usually because he was joking.

"I wouldn't say glad. I would say unaffected." Castiel spoke as if in a quandary.

"Good," Dean said firmly before he pushed Castiel down on the couch, sealing their lips together. They frolicked on the couch, kissing and groping, losing track of time.

"I will never let anyone hurt you," Dean growled against his throat in one of their more heated moments. His words left Castiel feeling as though he had missed something important.


	4. Chapter 4

This is not what I do

The day started out okay. Okay meant great in Castiel's life.

The bar was fine. He handed out drinks, cleaned a table or two, Ellen and Jo kept it to themselves. No trouble at all. It was good. Strangely good.

As he parked his car home the sight of the same Volvo greeted him again. So, Gabriel was back. Okay, okay nothing he couldn't handle.

He swept his feet on the door mat, hung his coat and went automatically for the kitchen.

Gabriel was always in the kitchen. It was his special place.

He was currently munching on some chocolates he had left. Castiel forgot about a lot of the food he had in his home. Dean's presence made him forget a lot of things. Like, he could be starving, and he would see Dean at his porch looking as stunning as ever and he would just forget it, like that. The mear sight of Dean made him feel fulfilled in more ways than one. He knew he should feel cautious about these feelings. But he had never had a chance to experience any of them. Why couldn't he just let himself go, for once?

-"Hello, Gabriel."-

-"Hey."- Gabriel replied disinterested. He was probably still mad about yesterday. He wouldn't put it past him to act like a child.

Castiel rummaged through the fridge trying to find anything decent to eat. He ended with an ice cold beer. So what, beer is liquid bread, it fulfills the need to eat, and it helps dealing with Gabriel.

-"True Blood, huh?"- Gabriel voiced from the table.

Castiel closed his eyes for a brief moment. He recently bought two bottles for Dean, if he ever felt like it. Oh, well he would find out sooner or later.

Castiel closed the refrigerator shut, turning to Gabriel with the bottle swaying in his hand.

-"For a friend, yes."-

-"A friend? Castiel are you fucking a vampire?"- Gabriel spit out, his brows furrowed in defiance.

Castiel all but choked on his first gulp of beer. He coughed, tapping a fist against his chest.

-"I am not fucking a vampire, Gabriel."- Castiel spoke through gritted teeth. He never took kindly to harsh language.

-"Really? Cause that's not what I heard."- Gabriel turned back to his chocolate, refusing to look at Castiel.

-"People talk a lot of nonsense."- Castiel thought this closed the conversation. Apparently, it didn't.

-"So are you saying you are not in any way romantically, or sexually involved with a vampire?"- Gabriel glanced at Castiel, giving him a look of disbelief.

Castiel gave him a very leveled look.

-"Romantically, yes."- It was all he was willing to give to Gabriel.

-"Wow, romance with a vampire. That makes it a lot better."- Gabriel said mockingly, his disapproval clear in his words.

-"He is better."- Castiel felt a sudden urge to defend him.

-"He is a vampire, Castiel. They are not human. They are not like us!"- Gabriel let his anger show fully, his voice raising.

-"'Us' hasn't been half as good as he has been to me."- Castiel replied with force evident in his voice.

Gabriel gave him the up and down look, silently defying his words.

-"You know best, right? I mean, who am I to meddle, I'm just your brother..."- Gabriel turned back to his chocolate, acting unfazed. Yep, Gabriel was ever the stubborn child.

-"And I appreciate your concern, although it is needless."- Castiel tried being sincere.

-"I just don't want you to get hurt."- Gabriel's voice sounded strangled, as it was very hard for him to show open emotion. Castiel could feel it anytime he wished, but they had an agreement; No emotion probing in the family.

-"And I won't. I can take care of myself."- Castiel finished the argument whilst pulling a chair to sit opposite Gabriel. Gabriel gave him one last 'look' before leaving the matter completely.

They talked about all sorts of things they missed out on. Gabriel told him about his recent apartment change, he told him about his plans on buying himself a strip joint, about a girl he was meddling with. In exchange Castiel told him little things. He talked about his cat Mojo, her recent health problems, about Sam, about Ellen, people he used to know. He found he didn't have much to say, hence all of his day's mainly revolved around Dean. And Dean was not open for discussion.

-"Grandpa was killed, Cas."- Gabriel burst through the conversation they were having.

Castiel let a beat of silence pass by.

-"Killed?"- He repeated, silently.

-"Yeah. He was, he was just ripped apart. They say it was a rabid dog or, or wolf or something, they had them in the area... It ripped his dick of Cas! What kind of wolf does that!"- Gabriel exclaimed, his voice ragged with emotion.

Castiel felt something sink, deep, deep within him.

-/-

Castiel tapped his foot nervously, hunched over in his chair, awaiting Dean.

He couldn't, he just...

It wasn't possible.

How could he even find him?

He found an answer...

How could he go there, it was miles away?

He found an answer for that too.

Why?

And that was the scariest answer, but the one that made him almost sure.

A ring startled him off his thoughts. Dean was here. This was it.

The door opened with a crack.

Dean stood as handsome as ever, his winning grin plastered across his face. Castiel smiled back. Or at least tried.

-"Come in, please."- Castiel made him way inside. Dean's grin vanished, quickly hanging his jacket.

-"You are distressed."- He stated. His voice brought so much warmth, but Castiel couldn't bare to feel it.

-"Just, go in the living room..."- Castiel replied his gaze fixed on the floor.

Dean's walk felt unsure as he took a seat on the couch. Castiel was the one sitting on the sofa this time.

He couldn't switch his gaze from the floorboards. He kept kneeding his hands together anxiously.

-"Cas what's the matter?"- He heard Dean say worriedly, his voice deeper than usual.

Finally he looked up to catch Dean's hunched form on the sofa, looking intently at him.

It was funny how he found himself in these situations more often in the last week. He felt like one of the two of them was always awkwardly trying to make a point. He would have found it pretty hilarious if it weren't for the given situation.

He had a question that needed to be asked. He prayed for a negative answer, so then maybe he could brush this whole thing off and just let this relationship prosper.

-"Dean, I... Gabriel visited me today again."- Castiel said somberly, trying to speak unfazed.

-"Did you guys get in another fight?"- Dean asked, making an open hand gesture, raising his brows as if confused.

-"No, uh, we're okay..."- Castiel brushed up his arms, as if he was cold.

-"Did he give you trouble? I mean with me being a vampire and all."- Dean spoke again his tone probing, trying to pull the word out from Castiel's throat.

-"No. I mean, yes, a little but, he'll just have to deal."- Castiel said absently scratching at his arms, earning him a soft chuckle from Dean.

-"So then, why are you so tense?"- Dean asked lightly, his good mood back in place.

This was it.

-"Ah, Gabe... Gabriel said something. He said, that, my, ah grandfather, was killed."- Castiel's mind raced with anxiety and anticipation, evident in his fumbling words.

He looked into Dean's eyes which were for once ice cold. He saw him tense and stiff as a statue. Or maybe a dead body.

-"They said, that, it was probably a dog, or maybe wolf... Or something. I-I just need to, ask you. If, did you, Dean, kill him?"- He shivered as he finally vomited out his words. They felt so vile and nasty. He felt nasty.

-"Yes."- Came a stone cold voice.

-"What?"- He felt his breath ragging, his head slowly clouding over with emotion.

-"Yes, I killed him."- Dean said calmly. And his words would have been soothing even if it weren't for the meaning behind them.

-"You... Why, Dean?"- Castiel felt his voice give up on him, his eyes welling up with tears. His Dean... Dean was still an ice cold killer.

-"Don't look at me like that, Cas. Please, I-I did what was right."- He could only catch a glimpse of Dean's sorrowful face, before his vision was fully blurred by tears.

-"How is killing a man ever the right thing..."- Castiel said quietly, more to himself than to Dean.

-"Killing a guilty man is. He never got a punishment, Cas. You never got justice. I was not going to just, sit on my ass, while that man was still breath-"

-"You never had the right!"- Castiel yelled over the growing tone of Dean's own voice. Through his red eyes he saw the lost expression on Dean's form as he was standing.

-"You never... I never, should have trusted you..."- Castiel said quietly spiraling slowly down in his own misery.

-"Cas, don't, please."- Dean voiced eagerly from the other side of the room, almost pleading.

-"Oh God, everyone, fucking everyone warned me, told me to keep away, but no, Castiel always the righteous one, had to prove them wrong! But I ended up proving them right. Castiel always the foolish one..."- He chuckled somberly, out of humor, rubbing a hand over his face, over his trailing tears.

-"Cas, please, you need to understand, I-"

-"No**, you** need to fucking understand that real life, is not about hunter and prey! You have problems, you deal with them, you get let down, you deal with it, you try to make the best out of what you're given! You don't go killing people! You don't... I don't care about grandpa, Dean. I could care less if he was killed or not. But, he was killed by you. And, I, I'm scared Dean. I'm scared that I will not be able to tell you the simplest things in life. I'm scared that I'll tell you my boss cut my pay-check and you'll go and slaughter him. I didn't tell you about him, my, my grandfather so that you would go, a-and kill him, I-"- Castiel sniffled through his tears and snot, his breath hitching in heavy tears. He wasn't a pretty sight that's for sure, but the whole evening wasn't a good experience. Dean sat hunched on the couch his jaw clenched, his heavy breathing could be heard through his nostrils, but otherwise remained silent.

-"I-I wanted to trust you, Dean, God knows I did. I wanted to believe, so, so badly that there was someone that I could love, and could love me back in return. I guess I, uh, I got so lost in my fantasies I couldn't see what was in front of me. A killer."- Castiel said, his eyes locking on Dean's. But through his tears you could see the pure anger he felt. He felt so, so much betrayal. That was the worst one. He didn't let himself trust people. And one time he did, and he had, he just had to be stabbed in the back.

Dean glared back at Castiel his eyes unblinking, and his breathing stopping. Again, he was just a killer.

He stood up slowly, brushing his hands up his thighs.

-"I'm sorry. For what I did. For what I am. I will come to you when your anger has subsided-"

-"You will do no such thing."- Castiel cut him off before he could finish.

-"And we will talk this out, properly."

-"There's nothing left to say."- He interrupted again.

-"I hope you understand that I love you-"

-"You are incapable of love."- Castiel bit back again, his anger completely taking over his mind and body.

-"And that I don't plan on stopping anyti-"

-"Then you should start planning."-

Dean just straightened his posture completely, eyeing Castiel behind half lidded eyes. If he was thinking straight he could have probably seen the redness surrounding his eyes, much like blood, pooling in them.

-"I can only hope to be forgiven."-

-"Hope all you want."-

-"Goodbye, Castiel."- Dean said quietly, before trudging out the living room, towards the door and out.

Castiel let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He let himself land fully on the sofa and started sobbing violently.

-/-

The next morning he awoke feeling like a corpse. Looking around himself he realized he had fallen asleep on the sofa. And like that he remembered the previous night and everything, fucking everything that had happened.

He slowly gathered himself up and went through his morning habits like a ghost.

Thankfully his biological clock had awoken him just in time to get ready for work.

Looking in the mirror he saw just how much of a mess he really was.

His eyes were still puffy and red from crying, deep circles under his eyes, hair rumpled from clenching on it too tight.

He hopped into the shower, hoping to erase some of the visible memories from last night.

-/-

His arrival at work was, well worse than usual.

He couldn't concentrate on his shield at all.

Which was worse off now, than it had been a couple of days ago.

He felt Jo's raising libido as she talked to some hunky road worker, Bobby, the sheriff's crave for alcohol and his own silent anger all mix into one clusterfuck of emotion.

-"Hey, Cas."- Sam's cheerful voice startled him out of his inner mess of thoughts. He looked back, and up into Sam's careful smile, as he cleaned a glass in his shaking hands.

-"Hello, Sam."- Was his short response back.

-"So, what you been up to?"- Sam asked as he lowered himself on his forearms on the bar, next to Castiel.

'Oh, not much, just, getting my Grandpa killed.'- He thought disgustingly to himself.

-"Not much, what is there to be up to in this town?"- Castiel quipped, feeling his mood lighten up, just the slightest at Sam's wide grin to his response.

-"Got that right. How's your cat been doin'?"- Sam's question left Castiel with a funny feeling of amusement. How could Sam remember such unimportant things about him?

-"She's fine actually. Kind of a bothersome, wakes me up early on weekends."- He answered giving Sam a small smile. It felt good to just talk.

-"Tell me about it. My dog's been an amazing alarm clock, but unfortunately there's no off button."- Castiel caught himself chuckling. Sam always managed to make him smile. Always.

-"Not even a snooze button?"- He prompted the joke.

-"Nope, nada."- And they both chuckled at that, catching each other's gazes. Castiel searched Sam's eyes as he searched his own. He blushed at the little moment of silence and chuckled a breath of air before returning back to cleaning the glass.

He felt that very same tension he sometimes caught when he was around Sam. And his shield had slipped enough times to know that what Sam felt towards Castiel wasn't exactly platonic.

But Sam was always the gentleman, and kept it to himself. Until today, that is.

-"So, uh what are you doing tonight?"- Sam asked, awkwardness present in his voice.

-"Um, not much I guess. Probably brushing up on this book I've been reading."- Castiel replied puzzled, furrowing his brows as he stared intently at the cup in his hands.

-"Does that mean, that if someone wanted to spend this fine evening with you, you would say yes?"- Castiel raised his head slowly at this statement sending Sam and amused look, who was worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

-"Depends on who that someone would be."- Castiel grinned at the growing smile on Sam's face.

-"That would be me. A drink at that jazzy place downtown. Maybe even a dance."- He chuckled happily.

-"So what do you say?"- His eyes betrayed his insecurity. It was funny to Castiel to see such a big man look so vulnerable.

And if he thought about it Sam was, well he was nice. He was smart, funny, careful, handsome, and most of all he was human. So why the hell not? Sure he was still feeling sore from Dean, but maybe this is what he needs. To let go, have a drink with someone he likes and trusts.

-"Sure, I'll go."- He approved, giving Sam a reassuring smile.

The enthusiasm on Sam's face could be heard.

-"Great, awesome! I'll uh, I'll pick you up around 8, if that's ok with you?"-

-"Sound's good."- Castiel nodded his head decisively.

-"Good. Yeah. So, uh I'm gonna head back, do some paperwork alright?"- Sam said as he straightened up from the bar, making a gesture towards the back with his hand.

-"Alright. Oh, and Sam!"- Castiel remembered something, just as Sam turned his back on him.

-"Yeah?"- Sam turned back, his expression puzzled.

-"What should I wear?"- Castiel asked quietly, a little bashful.

Sam practically guffawed with laughter.

-"Dude, you come to work in a bar wearing a shirt and tie. I'm sure you'll do just fine."- He said smiling as he gripped Castiel's shoulder tightly.

Castiel smiled shyly at Sam's gesture. The hand on his shoulder trailed of, as Sam's form walked back to his office. Turning once he shouted:

-"Just make sure to buy me flowers. Lots and lots of flowers."-

Castiel heard himself laugh uncontrollably.

This felt good.

Better than good.

Great.

**I know I'm late with updates but bare with me please. I just have so much love for this story I had to update it before Cinderfella. To note the red pooling around Dean's eyes is vampire tears. To anybody that hasn't watched True Blood, when vampires cry, they cry blood. Also help me pick our new Eric! It can be anybody that you prefer really!**

**Regarding Supernatural's new season I am heartbroken. I am only hoping that that was not Castiel's exit. The writers are not imbeciles they know how much he meant to the fans, there's no way they would have done that. Keep hope everyone! **

**Also thank everyone that review and favorite this story, it means a lot to me, and it helps me keep motivated.**

**Reviews = Love**


	5. Chapter 5

This is not what I do

Castiel looked over himself for one last time in the mirror.

"Nice..." –He praised himself, as living alone in this big, big house has made him engage in various monologues.

He straightened his red tie, over his black shirt. He thumped his pocket on his black khakis to secure his wallet was there. He polished his shoes one last time, and decided that, yeah, he did look nice.

He went into the kitchen to pass his time in waiting for Sam, sipping on a beer to ease his mind. He scratched a hand over his chin in thought, realizing how he'd forgotten the feeling of being pristinely shaven.

Even the beer couldn't help with his anxiety.

It's been so, so long since he'd been on a proper date.

But he shouldn't be feeling so anxious, it's Sam.

He knows Sam, Sam is good.

But it's not about Sam at all.

It's Dean he feels anxious about.

He couldn't keep Dean out of his mind. As he shaved he couldn't help but think how Dean's thumbs would caress through his stubble; when he made his tie he wondered how would Dean react if he saw him so put together, how he'd probably whistle in appreciation and he laughed at the thought.

His brows furrowed in pain, remembering for the umpteenth time that none of that was happening, not anymore at least.

Dean hurt him. Badly. He wasn't the one that's supposed to feel remorse here.

The bell ringing cut his inner debate short, and he forced his thought that-a-way.

Concentrate on Sam. Nice Sam. The one that didn't kill your grandpa.

He opened the door, and wow. Sam with his height in a simple white t-shirt topped off with a stark jacket, dark jeans, looking his best. Damn if his interest wasn't peaked.

"My eyes are up here." –Sam chuckled in humor, white teeth gleaming.

Castiel chuckled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"You look great by the way. Gorgeous." –He lifted his head to see Sam's eyes raking over him, a wistful tone to his words.

"As do you." –Castiel smiled in appreciation, feeling his light blush.

"Shall the two gorgeous men, head out now?" –Castiel chuckled once again and took the offered hand as he was led off the porch and to Sam's truck.

-/-

"So, Bobby by this point is completely wasted, and I mean dead drunk, and Jo sends me to take his order, something about not being able to handle him, or whatever, and I go up to him and ask him if he'll have the soup or salad, and Bobby just, he gives me this long look, like I just told him I'm pregnant, and he says 'What's a super salad?'."

Castiel practically guffaws, able to stifle his laughter with a hand over his mouth, eyes crinkling with humor. Sam laughs openly opposite him, telling him one of the sheriff's most recent drunken escapade.

Castiel finally manages to contain himself, resulting in less embarrassing chuckles finally removing the hand from his mouth.

"You should laugh more. If I have to get Bobby drunk on a daily basis just to hear you laugh, then so be it." –Which earns him another chuckle from Castiel, as he bashfully picks up his glass of wine to drink.

The place is actually really nice. It has this dark, smokey feeling you only get at good jazz clubs. It's a relaxed, lazy evening, some dancing, some drinking.

Some, like him and Sam laughing uncontrollably at a table in the corner.

"So tell me something about you, Cas. I know you like to play mysterious but, come on, man." –Sam smiled, prompting Castiel.

"I'm not as exciting as Bobby, that's for sure." –Castiel said glumly, earning him a chuckle from Sam's side.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask out Bobby for a date. Which would be disturbing on so many levels." –Castiel founds himself laughing along to Sam's good humor.

"No, I want to get to know you, Cas. I wanna know what makes you tick, you know. Hell, I wanna know your favorite color."

-Castiel takes a slow sip from his red wine, contemplating how to approach this. He doesn't know what to give, Sam. Doesn't know how.

"Well to be fair, you don't really give out much about yourself, Sam. I don't even know if you were born here, town's people say you just came here one day."

"So you've been asking around for me, Cas? Sneaky." –Sam chuckled with mirth, taking a ; as Castiel noted, a significantly big gulp of wine. So, Sam wasn't the only one with bones in his closet here.

Sam was always very respectful, but distant. Distant in a way that said that he wanted to get to know Cas, but didn't want him to get to know Sam.

"I want to get to know you, Sam. But, you're not giving me much to work with." –Castiel said honestly, putting his hand gently over Sam's on the table, hearing his breath hitch.

"Dance with me." –Sam said as he turned his hand over, twining their fingers together.

Castiel cocked his head to the side, a look of amusement on his face.

"Way to change the subject." –He said bluntly, hearing Sam's laughter.

"See I knew you were funny. Not to mention cute. Come on." He stood up, his hand firmly clasped with Cas'.

"Sam, I am not dancing with you."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because you're being a child. Now come on."

Castiel sent him one last glare, before giving up, and arising from his seat, walking towards the center. Sam smiled, as he put his hand over the small of Castiel's back, taking his other hand in his own. They moved to the soft, sensual music of a saxophone.

Castiel looked up to Sam's face and found an expression of joy, even bliss on the younger man's face.

He felt so guilty.

Sam was so happy, glad even to be with him here, and all he could think about was how wrong this all was.

How every touch he gave Sam was that of a friend, of reassurance, and how every touch Sam gave him was one of tenderness. How Sam's big hands didn't fit with his smaller, boney ones. How Dean's fit just right. How Sam's hovering form was too big for his smaller, leaner frame. How Dean's bulkier form meshed will with him. How his eyes were too hazel and not enough green. Hair too dark, too long. Lips too thin. Smile too innocent.

He gulped in guilt. Sam didn't deserve to be compared like this.

He was so wonderful, so funny, and generous, giving, handsome, stable, secure, caring.

He was perfect. Just not perfect for him.

"I'm sorry Sam. I'm so, so sorry." He said as he ducked his head away in shame pulling himself away from Sam.

"Cas, what?" –But he didn't let him finish as he was already out the door, and in the summer's cold night air.

He needed it though, he needed it like he needed a slap in the face, he needed to realize what he was doing here.

Giving a good man false hope, playing around with another person's feelings just to get his mind out of someone. He did so bad here.

"What happened, Cas?" –Sam quickly stood before him, the weight of his hand on his shoulder.

"Sam, I-I'm so, so sorry, please forgive me, but, I just, I can't do this. I'm sorry. I am." –Castiel gulped in harshly trying to find his words through his emotions, feeling how his shield was slowly falling apart.

"What do you mean you can't do this?" –Sam said exasperated leveling himself with Castiel.

"This. I can't go on dates with you, and pretend everything is okay. It's not Sam. I'm not." –His breath hitched in the tears to come.

"Is this about that vampire?" –He was surprised to see Sam suddenly turn angry.

"What-How do you know about D-Dean?" –Castiel voiced his confusion. He hadn't told anyone about him. They weren't public.

"Oh, so now he has a name. Everyone knows that you're fucking a vampire, Cas! I didn't believe them! I always said you were better than that! I-I guess I had to hear it to believe it. " –Sam straightened his form running both hands through his hair, his wild eyes tracing around himself.

"Sam, why, why are you being like this? "-Castiel didn't know how to react. This was such stark opposite from the Sam he knew.

"Like what, Cas? Like a human being? Is that what's so not appealing about me? Is that the problem?" –Sam shouted his words with spite.

"Don't you dare shout at me, Sam. " –Castiel said coldly, back in his stoic façade. This seemed to sober Sam up.

"Look, Cas, I'm sorry-"

"No. Don't apologize. I heard enough. Goodbye ,Sam." –Castiel finished grimly and took to the road with hurried steps.

"Where are you going, Castiel? You can't walk back, don't be a child!" –Sam shouted over from where he was left standing.

"I'm calling a cab. Goodbye, Sam."

-/-

Well that was a disaster.

On so many levels.

Monday morning was gonna be super awkward.

"Thank you." –He said as he gave the taxi driver money, and slammed the door shut before stepping to his porch.

And, oh wow, talk about 'can this day get any worse'.

Dean Winchester stood up slowly from the steps looking a strange mixture of embarrassed and tense.

"Wow, you sure look nice. A bit cranky but, hell I'd-" –But he was silenced by Castiel's mouth, his lips tracing roughly over Dean's mouth.

Castiel pulled back, his hands secured at the back of Dean's neck, searching Dean's confused eyes with lust.

"Come to bed with me." –Castiel said, his voice roughened by emotions.

"Cas, I... I would love to." –Dean responded a little lost, his features softening immediately, as he pushed his lips over Castiel's, kissing him like this was all he was meant to do.

Once they made their stumbling trip to the bedroom, all hasty hands, and scattering clothes, Dean took Castiel's fumbling hands away from his belt and looked at him.

"What?" –Castiel managed, a little breathless.

"If-If we do this... Will you, Can I come and see you, at night?" –Dean all but pleaded, in a husky voice, the dark of the bedroom giving a glow to his features.

"Yes, but we still have to talk. Just, please, I need this tonight." –Castiel responded gravely, taking Dean's head to kiss him lovingly, patiently, without hurry this time.

Dean responded in kind as he guided Castel's body to the bed, taking him in his strong arms to place gently under him.

"May I?" –He asked with glossy eyes, his hands at Castiel's belt.

"Yes, please." –Castiel affirmed with a desperate tone to his voice.

Dean kissed his forehead, as he unbuckled the belt, sliding of the pants with ease.

He brushed his hands up Castiel's legs stopping at his thighs. He slid his body completely down to kiss his lips, which Castiel took in greedily. With a last tug of his lower, wine stained lip, he nuzzled in his cheek, kissing down to his throat, lapping at his Adam's apple, earning a long, audible moan from above. He kept brushing his thighs, as he slid his lips lower, over his collar bones, brushing his lips over the porcelain skin, and lower stopping at the pink nipples, lapping them up in his mouth, sucking and kissing, savouring the taste and soft lost moans that he was granted.

And lower, memorizing the hills of his ribs, circling his belly button, as the other man's hands dug into his shoulders, as if asking for release, for friction. Lower, nuzzling into the line of soft, black hairs, tongue trailing over the skin beneath, louder, and louder moans of plead from above.

Given a soft push from Dean, Castiel eagerly spread his legs widely, and watched as Dean took his left leg to kiss at his knee, and then bury himself between his legs, nipping at the sensitive, never-before touched skin of his inner-thighs.

He felt so good, so unbelievably good, like he was about to leave this realm. The touches he received from Dean were tender, loving even, and if he were to do this with anyone it would be Dean.

Finally with a wicked gleam in his eyes, Dean took Castiel in his mouth, all the way to the base without as so much as a flinch.

Taken by surprise Castiel spasmed, his whole body raising from the bed, along his howl of ecstacy.

Dean's eyes flicked to Castiel's as he found the other man's hovering upper body over him, Castiel's hands wrapping themselves in Dean's hair.

He continued his up-and-down motion, as Castiel carted his fingers through his hair, grunting in appreciation and gasping his name.

"Dean, I-I'm going to cum, Dean..." –Castiel rumbled in a haze, not really catching his words, just remembering a vague taught to let Dean know this.

And at his words, Dean arose from his thighs, leaving Castiel feeling a little empty and a bit annoyed, but soon enough he felt Dean's rough hand closing around his manhood, and he moaned at the feel of his skin pulling over the dripping saliva there. Dean's mouth closed over his, stifling his moans, swallowing Dean's soft grunts with own.

He pulled his hands away from the other man's shoulders, and reached under for his jeans, realizing he never really did get to take them off. Finding the sense to pull them down to his thighs he turned his mouth away from their kiss and to the vampire's leaking cock, marveling at the sight he made. He pulled cautiously at his skin, having never done this, unsure of himself, but the loud growl from Dean as he buried his head in Castiel's shoulder was proof enough he was doing good.

As he felt himself on the edge, he saw Dean raising his head from his neck, eyes looking lost like in a trance, and white, long, fans gleaming in the dark night, the air heavy with sweat and sex.

"Bite me." –Castiel hissed through his teeth, leaving one hand from beneath to grab at the vampire's head.

Dean seemed to regain some consciousness at this, able to only shake his head in 'no'.

"Fucking do it." –He ground out, as he pulled on his hair roughly in demand. This seemed to be enough for Dean as he closed his fangs over his neck, pulse beating even more widely, as he felt himself cum at the sweet pain, and deep arousal Dean was giving him. He howled loudly in euphoria, the moan ripped out from his lungs, as he felt blood being sucked out from him. He found Dean's come plastering itself over his own hand, stomach and chest.

Finally, Dean removed his teeth from his neck, mouth dripping with blood, lips painted red.

Castiel flopped down on the bed, as Dean's hands left his back and he himself dropped next to him. He breathed loudly through his mouth, regaining some composure. He turned his head to Dean and saw him biting his own finger with a single fang, resulting in little droplets of blood.

"Dean..." –Castiel hardly managed to voice his confusion, as Dean reached the bleeding finger to the bite mark on his neck.

"So it'll heal..." –Was Dean's soft response back.

Castiel smiled in content, as Dean smiled back and let himself be wrapped and held over the bigger man's chest.

**Yay, late update is late! So I really hope you liked it, the next chapter we'll probably be seeing the new Eric and what-not. x)**

**Reviews keep the author going! I highly appreciate every single opinion you have. So tell me whats bad whats good. :D**


	6. Chapter 6

This is not what I do

It was Castiel's first 'Morning After 'and admittedly he felt amazing.

He woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, for once not feeling irked to hear that noise. He felt pleasantly buzzed, wasted in a good sense. Like that everlasting tension had slipped away from him.

In the bathroom mirror he saw the first post-sex image of himself. He looked nothing different than his usual rumpled self, but he felt like glowing. Although there was a peculiar mark to himself.

A bite mark to be precise.

He gently rested his fingers over the two puncture wounds right over his pulse point. Even though Dean tried healing them with his blood, two dark circles undeniably spoke of vampire sex.

Dean...

He was so good last night. He reminisced the way he looked, the way he moved over him. The way he felt. The smooth golden skin, slick underneath his hands. The hard, strong rippling muscles moving over him. The way his green eyes shined. The way his hand gripped him, controlled him, brought him ecstasy.

The way he too seemed to fall apart. How he could barely control himself.

He couldn't help feeling smug that all that was his doing. That, Castiel, 30 year old virgin, who works as a bartender could make such a beautiful creature get so worked up.

But then again, he remembered all the other leftovers from last night.

Sam yelling at him. Insulting him. Dean still having killed his grandpa.

Having to work with Sam in less than an hour.

And that talk he and Dean are supposed to have.

Fuck...

-/-

To say that working beside Sam in the bar was awkward, would be putting it mildly.

Castiel flipped chairs, carried boxes, did everything he usually did every day, Sam also listed bottles at the bar and carried glasses. Only, the air had a very different feeling to it. Instead of the usual hustle of working, and friendly retorts they threw at each other, the atmosphere was thick with guilt and suppressed anger.

Sam was the first to brake the deafening silence.

"Listen, Cas, we can't go on working like this." –Sam sighed in an exasperated manner, putting the last glass down whilst turning to face Castiel who was mopping a table.

"Then fire me."-Castiel spit back, his anger reaching the surface.

"What?" –Castiel didn't spare a glance to Sam's shocked form.

"You heard me."-Instead he simply replied, concentrating on that smudge that wouldn't come off.

"I-I'm not going to fire you, Castiel! We can talk this out."- Sam practically yelled from the bar.

"I heard enough yesterday."

"Castiel, look at me!" –Sam huffed as Castiel's gaze wouldn't budge from the wretched table, and decided to make his way to the smaller man.

Standing over him, Sam put his hand on the rag that was clutched in Castiel's hand. Finally, the older man looked up into Sam's eyes, a look of sorrow on his face.

"Cas... I'm so sorry about what I said. Last night was... I was awful. I don't think I can... I just wanna move on, we move on..." –Sam fidgeted with his words, looking lost in his own sadness.

"I... I can't say it's alright, Sam... Just, give it some time and I'll be ok. We both will be."- Castiel said reasonably, his voice sounding tired.

"Ok..."- Was Sam's silent retort, and with a terse nod he left Castiel to his business, finding his way through the halls outback.

With a sigh Castiel sat in the nearest chair, and held his head in both his hands, feeling as though misery was just given a whole new meaning.

-/-

The rest of the work day was not much different. Hearing Sam throw commands at him in a stoic voice only made it the more difficult to pull through the day.

Sam was always a friend. He was his safe place. He was the person he knew would always condole him, always support him when all else failed.

And now, their friendship had failed.

Not only that, but, the relationship Sam wanted had failed.

And now he was stuck with the rest of the hicks he worked with. Sam made everything better. His smile was just the enough support he needed to handle the rowdy, drunken workers.

For the first time he noticed how that one thing was exactly why he kept this job. And now, in the absence of it, he saw how working here wasn't worth it.

As he was bringing a row of beers over to said rowdy, drunken table of workers, one of them, not noticing the proximity of the waiter, knocked over one of the tall bottles. The bottle came with a crash colliding to the floor, spilling the liquid.

The man began chuckling at the sight on the floor, and soon the whole table joined in laughing in a demented way.

Castiel could feel his chest tighten with their engrossing drunken haze of emotion he caught of them, pulled his shield tighter and bent down to pick up the shards of glass, ensure no one gets hurt.

Suddenly, he felt a rough calloused hand enveloping around his throat. The hand tightened in a vice grip, and with a jolt Castiel turned his head upwards the man, and he saw the same drunken worker who spilt the bottle looking at him with deep seeded hatred, his greasy lips upturned in a grimace, brows furrowed in defiance.

"Lookie here, men. A fangbanger. In our own city, serving our own beer."- The man said with spite, disgust apparent in his spitting words. His eyes were cast down Castiel's collar where against his pale skin two purple marks stood out starkly. The men all yelled in agreement.

"Don't touch me." –Castiel gritted out, still kneeling on the floor by the shattered bottle.

"What, ya let a fucking vampire touch you, but I cant? I bet you love this, bet you let that vampire strangle you, while he fucked your tiny ass."- The man grinned, yellowed, rotten teeth gleaming through, as the men snickered and cheered in union.

"I said don't fucking touch me!" –Castiel yelled back at the man, feeling anger boiling within him. Only it kept building up, and up, and made him feel like he was going to throw up, his whole body shivering with it, when finally, as the words escaped his mouth, a bright, white light came gushing through his mouth, and in a flash it was gone.

Castiel fell spent on the ground, hands and face clamming down over the shards of glass. He huffed, trying to catch his breath, and turned his head in pain, quickly pulling himself up, wincing as shards of glass dug into the flesh of his palms.

Once upright, he noticed the situation before him. All was quiet as everyone's attention in the bar was turned towards him. Some agape in shock, some in horror. Maybe both. In front of him the table was upturned, fallen on the ground. Around the table, also on the floor lay the men, looking up at him in shock. And the one, the gruesome hick that insulted him, lay unconscious, limbs splayed on the hardwood.

"The hell happened?"- Sam's voice sounded distant, even though he spoke from right beside Castiel.

"Cas... You okay?"- Sam asked hesitantly, as Castiel hadn't moved from his stance as he watched what he'd done. And then he snapped.

"I can't do this, Sam. I'm sorry." –And with those last words, Castiel turned his back on the audience and left the stage.

-/-

Driving in his car, Castiel finally found his sense and tried to make reason of what exactly had happened back at the bar.

The man pushed the beer, he bent down, man called him 'fangbanger', he got mad, and then... Then he puked sunlight over the man's face?

What?

It felt like burning, like it was burning him, and then it was gone in the man's direction. And the man fell unconscious...

It was all too confusing.

And what was he supposed to do now? They all saw, they must have seen what he'd done. What kind of human does that?

And that's just the thing. A human doesn't do that. He can't.

Castiel bumped his head over the wheel and let it stay there as he parked at his house.

Suddenly, he heard a row of thumps over his left. With a jolt he straightened his form glancing at his window. The sight would have been comical, even chuckle worthy if it weren't for his current mood.

Behind the glass of the window, in the dark of the night, stood Dean's face, looking meek, a silly childish grin on his face.

Castiel sighed, and pulled open the door, seeing Dean's hunched form without the block of metal between them.

"Fuck, Cas, what the hell happened to you?" –Dean's cheerful mood seemed to dissipate as he took a good look at him.

Castiel sat silent on his seat, feeling guilty for no exact reason.

"Come here."- Dean hushed, as he took Castiel by the arms, helping him pull himself up. Arms around the man's waist, he led Castiel to the house.

"Wait. Let's just. I need some air. Just sit." –Castiel mumbled as he stopped at the porch and sat at the third stair, Dean shuffling beside him.

Castiel couldn't bear to look at Dean, couldn't bear to inform him of the altercation that occurred on behalf of the evidence Dean left of their wonderful night.

It wasn't his fault people were horrid.

Suddenly he felt something soft and moist push at his cheek, leaving cold liquid.

He turned his head, eyebrows cocked in puzzlement, to find Dean pulling away from his cheek, licking a red trail from his lips.

"You're bleeding. It'll help if I... clean you. And, besides... It feels good."- Dean seemed embarrassed at the look he was given, standing up to defend himself.

In return, Castiel only felt a small smile fall on his face. With a chuckle he offered the side of his cheek to Dean.

"Go for it."- And Dean did, eagerly so. With soft, small, kittenish licks he cleaned Castiel's wounds. He quickly turned his attention to the blood pooling in Castiel's hand.

He quickly pulled it to his mouth, grasping it in the warmth of his own. Castiel heard a sharp yelp of pain as Dean abruptly pulled the hand away from his mouth.

"Is that fucking glass in your hand?" –Dean's voice came strangled, like his deep satisfaction was cut with pain.

"Yes."-Came the short answer from Castiel's side.

"You still not gonna tell me what happened?"

"Finish first."- And again, he did. But first, with nimble fingers he picked through the wounded flesh, picking out tiny specks of glass and discarding them to the ground. And again, he was back at the blood, lapping it with his raw tongue, sucking briefly at the still bleeding wounds.

He discarded the hand as he turned his attention back to Castiel's face, briefly licking at some raw cuts, before his licks turned into kisses, soft, plush pecks at his temple, at his cheek, at his jawline and finally at the corner of his lips.

"I'm done."- Dean whispered against his lips, and Castiel turned to give Dean a much awaited kiss. The sensation of having Dean's mouth over him, licking and sucking at his blood, soft, gentle yet firm, gave his libido a good kick.

"You're not getting away that easy."- Dean pulled back with a smirk. "Now talk." –He said instead with a demanding voice.

Castiel sighed once again, seeing as this was inescapable.

"Today at the bar, I, uh, I was handing out drinks. As usual."- Castiel took a small pause, finding the strength in him to continue. Dean's hands came to the rescue, as he drew circles in Castiel's back, reassuring him.

"And I, I carried some beers to a table of some drunk workers. One guy, he didn't see me, or something, he pushed a bottle, fell on the ground. I kneeled to pick up the glass, and he, uh, he saw my mark..."- Castiel finished with a wince, unconsciously massaging the place Dean's bite mark stood.

"And they, just, you know, started talking about 'fangbangers', and I got mad, and then I... It was a white light. It came out of my mouth. And next thing I know, the table is flipped and the man is unconscious. I don't know what happened, Dean. I honestly, have no idea." –Castiel finished with a strained voice. Chancing himself a glance at Dean, he noted he couldn't read his expression.

"Did he hit you with that bottle?"- Was Dean's question. Well, of course, he didn't explain that.

"No, uh, I fell on the ground after I... The thing that..."- Castiel huffed exasperated.

"After the light. Like I said Cas you have a gift. We'll figure it out. I promise."- Dean, ever calmly, smiled at Castiel giving his back a solid thump.

"Dean, I... Despite what happened today I have to make things clear with you."- Castiel cleared his throat, remembering what tonight was all about. But even more than that, he just wanted to put it behind him so they can get to more important stuff.

"Yeah... Shoot."- Dean said sullenly.

"I am a man, Dean. And as a man I can take care of myself. I am not a damsel. I understand that you are a vampire, and that if anyone can protect me it's you, but I need to feel capable. And I need to deal with my own problems. When I need your help I'll ask for it, ok?"- Castiel said with a smile. He had already forgiven Dean for what he'd done. Life is just too short to be angry all the time.

"Yeah, ok. I'm sorry."- Dean's choice of words reminded much of a child being scolded by his mother for missing homework. And that thought made Castiel chuckle, which earned him a quirked eyebrow from the vampire.

"Come here."- Castiel said through a smile, wrapping a hand around Dean's neck and pulling him forth. The vampire complied with a grin of his own.

Dean's lips moved over Castiel's in small pecks and tugs, playful, but Castiel wanted more. He pushed past the vampire's lips, tongue slipping in. They kissed in a dance of passion, soft sighs escaping through their lips, a moan as Castiel reached beneath to stroke the growing bulge over Dean's denim clad thighs.

"Wow! Wow."- Dean pulled back abruptly, grinning like a madman. "We better take this inside, tiger." –Dean bit his lips in a wanton manner, and just as he was to stand up, Castiel gripped his arm tightly.

"No. I-I want to do it here." –Castiel said breathlessly, not a hint of shame in his words.

"Here? Outside, Cas?"- Dean couldn't seem to comprehend the idea that Castiel, usually uptight and old fashioned would actually want to have sex in his own backyard.

"Yes."- Castiel raised his eyebrows with a smile.

"You're gonna drive me crazy one day."

"I look forward to it."

**So, originally this was planned as a short chapter but ended somewhere over 2 500 words and I cant seem to make a decision as to if I should write the sex scene or should I not, so I leave it up to you! :D Im asking because its backyard sex and what not, and though it seems exciting 'ahem, ahem' to me I don't know if it works for the readers. x) So seeing as whenever I promise I'm writing the new Eric I end up not writing him, so now, instead of promising to write him I'm just gonna wait it out and see where next chapter leads me. :D **

**Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. It really means a lot to me. :)**


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